The Dagger of the Mind
by Woomie
Summary: Post Season 5, fix-it of sorts.
1. A Dream within a Dream

_AN: I just discovered Merlin and watched them all in the last 6 weeks and fell in love! I ugly cried more than once while watching, but never more than the final episode. This is post season 5, my version of a fix-it. I have no idea if anyone else still cares about a show that hasn't been on for 7 years, but if so, please enjoy!__I own nothing of the characters or show._

CHAPTER 1: A Dream within a Dream

Melin laid his hand on his best friend's forehead and choked on a sob. No matter what Kilgarrah said, he had failed in his greatest duty. He had helped build the kingdom of Albion, but at too great a cost. He closed his eyes and whispered the words to send the boat across the water and –

jerked his eyes open, waking up with a gasp. Diving across the clearing, he fumbled to check for Arthur's heartbeat and felt lightheaded with relief when the king weakly batted his hand away. "Go away, Merlin," he groused, just as if it were a regular morning and Merlin was opening the curtains too early for his liking.

Merlin fell back on his butt, the corners of his eyes pricking. He was still too trapped in the shattering pain of watching Arthur die to speak.

It was the first night since they'd left Gaius, but that dream. He knew it was more than just a dream. He had lived what was happening, smelled and touched and slept and lived it all. He'd felt Excalibur slide into Morgana's body, heard Arthur's last exhale. It had happened, but somehow it hadn't.

"What? What is it?" Arthur interrupted his thoughts.

Merlin managed a whisper. "It's just...I thought...I thought you..." He couldn't finish.

His pain and fear were so raw, Arthur thawed a little. "No, still here." His words were caustic, but his tone wasn't.

"Good, yeah, good." Merlin ran a hand over his face, talking mostly to himself. "The one thing this bloody magic can't do..." He clenched his fists and something fell out of his left hand.

"Figures," grumbled Arthur. "It probably doesn't want to help a Pendragon." He caught Merlin's eye for a second, giving him a silent 'you good?' look, then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Merlin stared at the crystal he'd dropped, that he'd somehow been holding, though he'd never seen it before. His mind was spinning so fast he was almost physically dizzy. Had the crystal caused the living dream? Where had it come from? Was his magic trying to help him? Or was it some sort of trick?

Using the edge of his sleeve to cover his hand, he held the crystal up in the dim firelight and realized that it was very different from any of those in the crystal cave. It had been buffed and polished to be absolutely clear, but far more extraordinary, it had been painstakingly cut and shaped. It had dozens, probably hundreds of tiny, perfect facets. Each reflected the meager light into another and another and another refraction until Merlin was being pulled into a spiral around around around past present future...

He jerked his mind free. Who could have created such a thing? They had taken the raw power of the crystal and honed it into an artifact of great strength. It felt every bit as significant as Excalibur itself. There was nothing malicious he could feel, but Merlin could tell that it had the power to break his mind.

The crystal was not sentient, yet nothing had triggered his magical tripwire. Anything larger than an ant, other than Arthur and himself, should have sent a magical alarm into his mind. So how had it gotten into his hand?

Merlin glanced at his sleeping friend, the shallow breaths and sallow skin. This crystal was beyond dangerous, had appeared from nowhere, and might just destroy him if he touched it again. But he had never been so desperate. He was willing to seek the help of the Sidhe, after all. He had to risk this.

He took a steadying breath, closed his eyes, and slowly closed his fingers.


	2. Time is Eternal

_AN: I'm so excited that people are reading and making comment! Y'all are a great encouragement to an uncertain writer. I hope this chapter makes sense, and I promise that there will be more action soon.__Thanks for reading -- please share your comment!_

CHAPTER 2: Time is Eternal

Images hit Merlin with the force of a sledgehammer. His entire body spasmed with the force of it, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief. Images flashed by, each one with the force of a punch.

There was a figure with long, white hair hunched over a desk, the crystal in front of it held in a jeweler's device. He or she was working on it, studying it, learning about it. Sometimes they read books about it, sometimes seemed to stare into it, sometime polishing, sometimes chiseling. The room around them changed, the desk changed, their clothes changed. There might be books on the table, or tools. Only the figure and the crystal were constant. There was a terrible weight of time passing. So much time. The clothes and tools became strange, like nothing Merlin had ever seen. And still time passed.

At last, the figure straightened, back still to Merlin. It held up the crystal, and Merlin could see it was finished – polished and faceted. He sensed both triumph and incredible weariness from the artisan.

The world twisted nauseatingly and Merlin knew that great, dreadful, earth-shattering magic had been performed. He hadn't done it, but he felt the damage it had done to him. Whatever it was, it had never been intended to happen. It had broken some kind of fundamental rule.

The colors coalesced into an image again, and Merlin saw the figure standing in the forest, hunched and shaking, for the first time seeming weak. It bent over and dropped the crystal...into Merlin's hand. He was seeing what had happened just a short while ago.

The shaking figure straightened and turned, and Merlin saw its face for the first time. It was him...old, old, Emrys, so much older than anyone should ever get to be. With a smile, the ancient one melted, dissolved, turned to ash as he watched, burned out by the weight of that massive spell.

Merlin, watching Merlin and Merlin. It had to be true, because no one else could have entered the area without him knowing. His mind rebelled at the implications, the visions finally faded, and he rolled over and vomited. He heaved until there was nothing left in his stomach, then heaved more until everything ached, feeling like his head would split. On his hands and knees, shaking, he wiped his mouth on the shoulder of his shirt and tried to regain his composure. His brain itself ached, but he couldn't afford to be weak or distracted. He was Arthur's only line of defense, his only hope. Images of the king's death tried to crowd into his mind, and he shook his head, instantly regretting the movement.

"M-merlin? Are you injured?" asked Arthur in a thready voice so different from his normal tones.

"No," Merlin heard the lie in his own voice and tried again. "No, I'm sorry to wake you, Arthur. I'm fine. Just...go back to sleep, okay?"

Arthur grunted something uncomplimentary, but Merlin hardly noticed. Despite the pain in his head, his mind was spinning, making plans and discarding them, sorting and sifting ideas, slotting things into place to fix this because there had to be a way.

Another version of himself had put in time – oh, so much time! – to make the crystal and give himself a chance to avoid, to change the horrible future he'd seen. He'd performed time-altering magic, magic so great that it literally burned him up. He was not going to waste it.


	3. Tempt Not a Desperate Man

_AN: Thank you so much for your comments! I enjoy writing and hope you enjoy reading.__The next two chapters are already written and will be posted as soon as I have a chance to tweak them. Prepare to learn more about some of our favorite characters (well, my favs anyway). :-)_

CHAPTER 3: Tempt Not a Desperate Man

Since Merlin had embraced his magic, truly embraced it, his mind moved much faster. Now a plan began to take shape, and it took into account some of the things the crystal had showed him, things that he hadn't consciously noticed, but he was not realizing. He weighed the variables, the things – so many things – that could go wrong, the moving pieces. How would different entities act? What had he forgotten? He poked at the fire and stared at the rising embers, picturing every possible outcome he could think of. Without really meaning to, he swirled the sparks to form a single picture. It was the barest sketch, but in it, he saw every one of his friends, standing safely within Camelot, ready to take on the world again.

The picture faded and Merlin's concentration dipped. He saw again Arthur's face go slack, heard his last, rattling breath...and he couldn't sit still for one more second. It felt like the minutes were slipping through his fingers. So, though it was dark, though his head throbbed and it felt like someone was stabbing his left eye, though his plan made no promises, he decided it was time to go.

Morgana, he sent through his mind. I am taking Arthur to the Lake of Avalon. He closed the connection, having no interest in hearing her reply. He hated to do it, but he woke Arthur.

"Arthur, wake up," he hissed. "I'm sorry, but you must wake up." He shook the man's shoulder gently. "King or not, you can't just sleep all day, you know." He tried for lighthearted, even though he was filled with fear.

Awareness came slowly into those blue eyes. Merlin spoke urgently. "Arthur. Arthur, I know you are angry with me. I know you hate my magic, but I need you to trust me right now. Can you do that? Can you trust me, Arthur?" He knew he looked and sounded manic, but he couldn't be bothered to care.

Arthur stared at him for what felt like an eternity, then he rasped, "No," and Merlin's heart cracked again. Arthur coughed, then spoke more clearly. "No, Merlin, I don't hate your magic. It's a part of you. I'm angry with you. I may always be angry with you, but I do trust you." He squinted in the low light. "Merlin, you're bleeding."

Relief boomeranged through Merlin, and he reflected that if the headache didn't kill him, these whiplash emotions just might. He swiped at his face, finding that his nose was bleeding, and immediately dismissing the knowledge as unimportant.

He quickly packed up camp, carefully wrapping the crystal in an extra shirt to make sure he didn't touch it, and helped Arthur onto his horse. "Clearing, I need a clearing," muttered Merlin over and over. Despite his pain, Arthur spared a concerned glance for his servant. Sorcerer or not, in danger or not, he was acting oddly. Well, even more oddly than normal.

As he had that thought, Merlin cried, "Ah-ha!" and called a halt. He helped Arthur down and unloaded their meager supplies, but did not bother to tie the horses. "Remember that you trust me," he called to Arthur. With those troubling words, he ran into the clearing, threw his head back and his arms out, and began to call out in a loud voice. The words made no sense, and Arthur wearily wondered if Merlin had finally cracked.

Then came a sight that made Arthur wondered if he'd cracked. Was he hallucinating, or was there a dragon landing in the clearing? And was Merlin...talking to it? He was so very, very tired he struggled to focus, to pay attention to what they were saying.

"What have you done, Merlin?" the dragon was asking. "I look at you and you are young and old at the same time. Have you performed forbidden magic?"

"Not me," said Merlin. "I have not done the magic, but it has been done. Now, my friend, will you do what I ask?"

"You don't know the price of your requests, young warlock," sighed the beast. "But I cannot refuse you. You will pay many prices today, and I don't know if you will achieve what you seek. Yet I will help, and I will even give you my blessing. Remember, the Sidhe are wily and seek to entrap you in words, but they cannot lie. Tread carefully."

She who? thought Arthur blearily. He didn't understand any of this conversation. He missed Merlin's reply, then he heard the dragon say, "you had better place a sleeping spell on young Pendragon, or he may panic and do himself harm." Wait, what?

"Isn't that dangerous in his condition?" argued Merlin.

The dragon shook his massive head. "No, not at all. I placed one on you every time I carried you when you were injured."

"Oh, that's all right then," sighed Merlin.

Carried...oh no. Thought Arthur. No sleeping spell, no riding a dragon, nonono... But Merlin was in front of him, looking in his eyes and saying some strange words and sleep pulled him irresistibly into its heavy embrace.


	4. Strange Bedfellows

_AN: Thanks and happy noises for the comments, y'all! I expect the next chapter to be ready tomorrow as it's written but needs to be proofread. I'm enjoying writing this story, so it should continue to be updated quite quickly. Enjoy! (I hope!)_

CHAPTER 4: Strange Bedfellows

Kilgarrah set Arthur down at the edge of the Lake of Avalon with more gentleness than Merlin might have expected. Merlin squashed the urge to immediately check on his friend. He knew Kilgarrah would have let him know if had to worry, but he couldn't completely banish the memory of that other, dream / vision / reality of riding with Arthur's cold body. A full body shiver consumed him, and he felt his nose begin to drip blood again.

Wiping it away, Merlin turned and gave the dragon a full, true bow, the kind he never gave to anyone. In fact, he had only done it once ever, when Arthur had been crowned king. Anyway, he hoped the dragon understood his level of gratitude. "Kilgarrah, my friend, my ally, I cannot thank you enough for your assistance again. I know what I am asking and what it may cost you, and I name you Legend. As long as I am alive, you will be remembered with honor."

"You honor me, Merlin," said Kilgarrah. "It has been my pleasure to help you on your journey whenever I can. I do not know if you can accomplish what you seek today, but if anyone can change fate, it is you. I think we won't see each other again. Let me leave you a last bit of advice. The Sidhe are wily creatures, but they respect and fear you. Do not agree lightly to what they require, because there will be a price. Now, I go to see if I can save another of your friends. Farewell, young warlock."

He launched himself into the air and flapped his great wings four times, then shot off into the night. Despite the urgency of everything Merlin had to do, he spared a few seconds to watch the magnificent creature fly one last time.

Then he arranged Arthur more comfortably on the ground. He was still in the grip of the sleeping spell, but Merlin whispered, "Have courage, Arthur. You will not die today!"

Standing, he centered himself. He shook off the fear that filled him, the pain within his mind, the grief and exhaustion that covered him, and called the Sidhe. He remembered the words without pause, and suddenly the air was filled with the music and lights of those magical creatures. He blinked, engaging magical sight. Even that bit of magic increased the ache in his mind, but he ignored it.

One of the Sidhe flew before him. "Emmmmmmmmmmrysssssssssss," it hissed. Merlin inclined his head without breaking eye contact.

"Do you know what I have come to ask?"

"You want healing for your king," it grinned nastily. "We are his only hope, but the price will be high."

"I don't care." Merlin had never been more sure of anything in his life. "I just want him healed. And I don't mean for a minute or a year. I want him healed so he can live a long life without pain, and rule Albion, as he is supposed to."

"You meddle with great forces, but we can do this," the Sidhe admitted. "We can channel your magic into the Pendragon's body and force it to heal, but the magic will not come back to you. It will be lost to you forever. You could lose half of your magic. Are you prepared for such a thing?"

"Yes." He didn't hesitate. He would have given all of his magic. He would have given his life.

"And it will take your immortality. You will live but a few mortal lifetimes."

"I don't care."

The Sidhe buzzed excitedly, and he had the sense they were conferring, that he had surprised them with his willingness.

The one he'd been talking to flew back in front of his face. "We do not deal kindly with ordinary mortals, but we are affording a great favor. Do you know why we do this?" Merlin shook his head. "The magic we pour from you into the Pendragon will not all be absorbed. Some will escape. We believe this magic will seed the world with new magic, causing more magical creatures, more sorcerers to be born. We have Seen the future you lived. In it, magic slowly dies. Without some of your magic out in the world, in 1500 years, magic will almost cease to exist. The Sidhe will cease to exist."

Merlin was shocked. A world with almost no magic? He couldn't even imagine such a thing. "Then do it," he said. "The king's time is getting short." He could hear Arthur's breaths slowing even as they spoke.

"It will hurt." The Sidhe savored the word. "If either of you lacks the will and strength of mind, you will both die."

"I will not change my mind." Suddenly, the words he needed came to him. "Sidhe na Daire, I enter into this contract of my own free will. Should you not uphold your word, I will reclaim all of my magic and rain vengeance down upon you all. But if it fails because we lack the will, I hold you blameless."

"So witnessed," said a thousand tinkling voices, and a shiver of magic rippled the air.

"One more thing," smiled the Sidhe mouthpiece. "Pendragon must pay a price too."

Before Merlin could formulate a response, he heard the sound of thundering hooves. Morgana rode out of the trees with a handful of Saxons right behind her, bearing directly down at Arthur. The Sidhe moved faster than sight. They surrounded the sorceress, covering every inch of her, and bore her right off her horse and disappeared into the water with her. Her men panicked, two of the horses actually running right into the water and disappearing with their riders, the others heading into the woods in wild fear.

"The Pendragon price is paid."

Merlin's mouth fell open. Just like that? He could hardly believe their years of fighting their one-time friend was over. He knew later he'd shed a tear or two for the woman she had been, but for now he was so full of other emotions that he was numb to her plight. He had known, somehow, that if she came to the lake today, she wouldn't leave, but he hadn't expected anything like what had just happened.

Merlin blinked and he and Arthur were in a circle of tiny lights. "Place the artifacts in his hands and prepare yourself," they all intoned at once. Merlin understood. He placed Excalibur in Arthur's right hand, and carefully, without touching it, placed the cracked crystal in the other. Standing, he said, "I'm r--" and the world exploded into nothing but

White.

Hot.

Pain.


	5. More than Kin

_AN: A huge thank you to everyone who has left a comment, or multiple. Love to you all! Shout out to gaylebf, sandhopper, Signal27, mersan123, and Gingeraffealene...muah!__This chapter shamelessly fixes something I hated in the finale, plus I get to write some of my favs.__Also, the chapter titles all come from Shakespeare so I can pretentiously pretend to be smart.__Enjoy and please comment!_

CHAPTER 5: More than Kin

Percival cursed himself with every ugly word he could think of. Since Lancelot had told him he was more than just another orphan, someone good for lifting heavy things or pulling a plow, he had trained every day. And since Arthur had given him the ultimate honor of naming him a knight of Camelot, he had begun to believe it.

Now, here he hung, useless, unable to help his closest friend. When Lancelot had died, Gwaine had wormed his annoying way into the role of friend. He had somehow gone from irritant to the one Percival most trusted to have his back. Okay, so he was still an irritant, but he had become like a brother to Percival. They had ridden out together, and Percival had failed to watch Gwaine's back.

Now he hung here, listening to his friend scream. Worse, the screams had fallen silent a while ago, and he had no idea if Gwaine was even alive. He clenched his fists and pulled again at the ropes on him, blood trickling down his arms like tears. Failure.

But another voice spoke in his mind. Maybe the most unexpected friend of all was his king. Arthur had become mentor, teacher, liege, and yes, friend. Now, when he needed it most, he could hear what Arthur would say to him. Strength is not just physical, it is mental as well. If you believe you can't do something, you'll find that you can't. When you are faced with something that seems insurmountable, take a moment to remember why you must succeed, focus, and most of all, believe that you can do it.

Remembering Arthur's words, Percival took a long, slow breath. He thought of the knight code, and his pride at being chosen. He thought of his king, of his fellow knights, laughing and joking and fighting back to back. And he thought of Gwaine, changing the duty roster when Percival had broken ribs, sticking a toad in Leon's boot, remembering the name of every single servant in the palace. Even if all he could do was bury his friend, he would get free to do that.

Percival flexed his arms, closed his eyes, and pulled down with every ounce of strength that he had. He bellowed with effort and blood flowed freely down his arms. The ropes creaked and held, but he didn't stop. Just when he had nothing left to give, the ropes snapped. He had put so much into breaking free that he had to lie on the ground and catch his breath before he even had the ability to get up.

A small groan gave him new life somehow, and he climbed to his feet and rushed toward it, with no thought of anything but aiding Gwaine. Oddly, there were no guards, no Morgana, nobody at all except Gwaine, head hanging low and the ropes that bound him the only things keeping him somewhat upright. Percival rushed forward and dropped to his knees, grabbing his friend's face between his hands. "Gwaine," he ground out. His friend's eyes fluttered open, but they were unfocused. "Gwaine, stay with me."

"Per-percy?" For once, the man was happy to hear the hated nickname.

"Gwaine, it's going to be okay now. I'll get you back to Camelot, to Gaius. We'll get you patched up okay."

Gwaine's smile was thin. "Won' make it." He drew a wheezing breath. "But 'sokay. I didn't tell her. I din't fail them." His eyes rolled back in his head. Percival looked around at the hastily-abandoned campsite and found a knife. He cut Gwaine free and caught him before he could crash onto his face.

"Hang on, you crazy git. You don't get to die on me!" Percival stared until he saw the shallow rise and fall of Gwaine's chest. In his heart, he knew that his friend wouldn't survive the entire way back to Camelot, but what kind of knight would he be if he didn't try? Sick with sadness, he found a horse – his own horse, actually, and loaded Gwaine on it.

The ride felt so horribly quiet, but Percival couldn't find it in himself to try and fill the air with chatter like Gwaine would have. He rode slowly but steadily, resting a hand on Gwaine's back every so often to check that the man was still breathing. He wasn't sure he could stand to only deliver his corpse.

A large shadow passed overhead, and wind blew up from nowhere. A great, dark shape came sharply down and filled the clearing in front of him. Percival pulled up the horse sharply, staring. They had survived all of the battles, an army of the dead, wyverns, and Morgana, and now they were going to be eaten by a dragon. "That's just not fair," he couldn't help but complain.

"Fair or not, I am here, sir knight," it spoke – spoke! – through all of those teeth. "Merlin has sent me to try and save the life of Gwaine."

"Gwaine...Merlin?" Percival's mind couldn't quite keep up.

"Merlin said to tell you that he is worth saving, even if he prefers to bathe in ale rather than water." The dragon paused. "Place him in the clearing and I will do what I can. Or ride on. But decide soon, because life is leaving him, and once it does, he is beyond my help."

Percival hesitated one more moment. His friend was, he knew, almost dead, and he had no way to help him. There weren't even any physical injuries. If there was even a chance that Merlin had sent the dragon, even a chance that it could help, he had to take it. He couldn't imagine what Merlin could possibly have to do with a dragon, but why would the beast lie? And how would it know the joke the knights made about Gwaine's bathing habits?

Mind made up, Percival dismounted and carefully carried Gwaine into the clearing, laying him down in front of the dragon. "If you eat him..."

"Brave words from a knight who doesn't even have his sword," said the dragon, laying one hand on Gwaine. It covered him from shoulders to knees. "But you have no need to worry. I gave my word. I do not know if he can be saved, but I will do all I can, even if it costs my own life."

The dragon muttered quietly under its breath, but nothing else happened as far as Percival could see. He stood just a few paces away ready to do anything he could, knowing there was no way he could be of any actual help. After a few moments, which stretched on forever, the dragon suddenly laughed.

"Well, there is something unexpected indeed! What a strange world this can be. It seems I can heal him after all. He will need much rest for a while, but he will be fine." The dragon bowed his head and the air around Gwaine began to shimmer. Slivers of light floated up from the stricken man, catching on dust motes in the air. "This I do for Emrys," said the dragon, then lifted its mighty hand and seemed to stumble back.

Percival rushed to Gwaine, seeing his color much improved and his breathing easy. He vaguely noticed the necklace newly resting on the other knight's chest, a bright red gem. He had different things on his mind. "Gwaine? Gwaine? You all right?" he demanded, gently slapping Gwaine's cheek.

"Your breath reeks! Get off me!"

Percival had never been so glad to be insulted as he was in that moment. "Gwaine! You're alive!" He pulled Gwaine to his feet and slapped his back, then turned to thank the dragon. It had curled on itself like a cat, nose tucked up in the tail and...

"He's turned to stone," said Gwaine quietly. "That's what happens when dragons die. Their bodies are magical, and when the magic leaves, they harden into stone." He frowned. "I don't know why I know that though..."

Percival glanced at the dragon, and at his friend. Though the dragon was gone, he gave it a small bow, his way of thanking it for saving Gwaine. "He did it to save you."

I did it gladly, because Merlin asked, said an ancient voice inside Gwaine's head. He twisted a finger in his ear as if that would make it stop. But I found a bit of a work-around. I placed a little bit of my essence in the necklace you now wear. For a time at least, I can speak to you and help you, until this too fades. After all, how often does one discover that there is another living line of dragon lords? You have much to learn, young knight. For now, go back to Camelot. Merlin and your king are at the Lake of Avalon. If they live, they will need help to get back to the city. I will talk to you again soon, but for the moment, my voice is needed elsewhere.

"Percival," hissed Gwaine, "how is the dead dragon talking inside my head?" Percival spread his hands and shrugged, not even doubting Gwaine's words, but at the end of the weird he could comprehend for one day. "Let's go – I feel amazing!" Then Gwaine saw the horse. "Oh, we have to ride double back to Camelot? Like girls on a picnic? You need to plan our escape better next time. With you being one of the riders, we'll probably kill the horse."


	6. The Secret House of Death

AN: I am quite nervous about this chapter...it's kind of out there and I'm not sure what people will think. But here goes...please share your comments, good or bad!

Also, mersan123, I *had* to bring back Gwaine! I looooooooooooove him!

CHAPTER 6: The Secret House of Death

Pain had been Arthur's constant companion since Mordred had slid the sword into his gut. It was easily the worst pain he'd ever experienced, far more even the four broken ribs he'd once suffered. The pain followed him even into sleep and, though he hadn't told Merlin, had been steadily growing. Now he was, finally, blissfully pain free. He was so free, almost completely free of his body and it was the most peaceful thing he'd ever imagined.

Something wanted him back in his body, something was pouring into him, but he didn't let it linger. He let it flow through him like water through a sieve. He knew his eyes were closed, but he could see a small opening, a hole in the sky above him. It was like the tear Morgana had opened, except it was small and round, with no jagged edges. He knew it was for him, and he let it tug him upward.

Then two hands grasped the hole – from the inside. Someone was trying to pull it closed. If he'd still been in his body, Arthur would have frowned. Why didn't they want him to go? He shifted his focus with a thought, and saw the hands belonged to Lancelot.

The knight was ethereal and limned with blue light. He smiled at Arthur and mouthed the words, "Not yet."

Another set of hands joined Lancelot's, then Elyan was there too. They pulled together, and the feeling of tugging got just a little bit less. Elyan didn't try to speak, but he smiled and shook his head. They were losing, though, and Arthur continued to drift. Four more hands added to the efforts, and Arthur could see his father. Something about him looked...wrong, and it wasn't that he was as incorporeal as the rest. It was that his face was...peaceful, at rest. For the first time in Arthur's life, there was no bitterness weighing down Uther's brow and darkening his eyes.

"I'm sorry, son," he mouthed.

Confused, Arthur looked for the person attached to the last set of hands. She was young and lovely, and he realized that it was his mother. Her smile was so beautiful it made him pause. Would he finally hold his mother? But she shook her head and her mouth formed the words. "Not today. Not yet. I love you."

Four sets of hands pulled in unison, shrinking the hole down so its tug on Arthur was almost gone, and he understood that this was his decision now. He had to decide if he would go into the peace or go back to the pain of living. He wanted that peace desperately, but he was confused. Why would these four try to keep him out? What did their words mean?

Then a voice spoke to him. It sounded of fire and iron, or teeth and leathery wings. I know you are in pain, young Pendragon. But there is much good you can do yet on this earth. The peace will wait for you. Come back for Camelot. Come back for Albion. Come back for your knights, for your friends. Come back for Merlin, who is trying so hard to save you and will die along with you if you go now. Come back for Gwen, who waits and grieves in the Citadel. And come back for your unborn son.

Son, son, son. The word echoed like a gong through his mind. Would the boy have Gwen's chocolate eyes? An image of Gwen, alone, sprang to his thoughts. Would he leave her to raise a child and rule a kingdom alone? Merlin would help – no, the ancient voice had said that Merlin would die if he died. He pictured his faithful friend, his knights. He thought of his love for Camelot and all he yet hoped to accomplish. With a mental sigh, he did the hardest thing he'd ever done and turned away from that tiny hole to the next life. Four people smiled as he did, and it closed like it had never been. Instinctively, Arthur allowed the power that had been flowing through him to take hold and … oh, gods the pain.

He had been in pain before, but that was minor compared to what he felt now. Whatever it was that was lodged in his chest began to force its way out, cutting through muscles, sinew, even bone pushing itself straight out. It burst through his skin and he would have screamed, but he had no air. Blood bubbled through his mouth. The power was relentless, and millimeter by millimeter, the damage that had just been done began to repair itself, and he felt every second of it. There was no air, but he could not die. The power would not let go.

It traced the path the shard had taken on its way out, putting every layer back together. Arthur finally could take a breath, but his torment wasn't done. The power followed the path the shard had taken as it climbed toward his heart, healing as it went, then the line the sword had made when it sliced into him. It was excruciating, an eternity of pain. If he'd still had the choice, he might have given up and fled the pain, but that option had closed.

This skin closed, and the power pinged through his body as if looking for anything else to heal. He breathed once. Twice. His emotions were bruised, but his body felt amazing. Opening his eyes to a brilliant blue sky, he registered that someone was screaming in a terrible, hoarse wail. As if using his muscles for the first time, he slowly turned his head.

To Arthur's horror, Merlin was the one screaming, his head thrown back and the tendons on his neck sticking out as he seized so violently that he arched off the ground and slammed down again over and over. "Stop!" called Arthur. Nothing happened, so he put every ounce of authority he had into his voice. "Stop now. Merlin, STOP."

The thrashing finally stopped and Merlin gave a long, breathy sigh. His eyes opened halfway. Blood smeared half his face and one eye didn't seem to be working quite right, but he quickly lifted his head and his face twisted through so many emotions Arthur couldn't catch them all. He saw fear, hope, worry, maybe joy? "Arthur," breathed Merlin. "How are you?"

All that had happened, all that he'd felt and experienced, was far too much to process right now, much less explain, so Arthur just said. "I'm good." He sat up and realized just how good he felt physically. "I'm good, Merlin."

"That's good then." He dropped his head back to the ground. "That's good."


	7. Friends Come Hither

_AN: Yup, I'm picking on Gwaine again. He is my beautiful idiot. It was nice to write a more light-hearted chapter after the last one! More angst to come soon though (sorry/not sorry).__Thanks for the comments and reads. Gingeraffealene, your comment that it's a good thing that Gwaine doesn't have any dragons to command makes me laugh every time I read it.__Enjoy, and I hope there isn't too much snow where you are! _

CHAPTER 7: _Friends Come Hithera_

"Gwaine!" Percival jumped off the horse and picked up his friend who had fallen asleep and fallen off the horse. Again. Pulling Gwaine up with one hand, Percival brushed the dust off with his other hand. He shook his head at the sight of the new bruise growing on the bottom of Gwaine's jaw. "If you can't stay on the horse, you're going to undo all of that healing."

Gwaine pushed Percival's hands away. "It's nothing. I'm just a little tired. I won't fall asleep again."

Percival gave him a disbelieving stare. Three times, Percival had barely caught him as he swayed, and twice he'd completely fallen to the ground. "I can lay you over the horse so you can rest. The dragon said you'd need a lot of rest."

Gwaine stepped back, looking offended. "That is not going to happen. What would that do for my reputation? Do you ever think of these things?"

The giant shook his head in frustration. "I'm not letting you fall again." He climbed on the horse and pulled out a rope as Gwaine pulled himself up behind. Knowing Gwaine's personality, Percival kept the rope out of sight on his lap. "But of course, we have to protect your reputation, _Sir_ Gwaine."

"Quite right."

About 15 minutes later, when Gwaine wavered again, Percival simply wrapped the rope around both of their torsos half a dozen times and knotted it in front of his chest. So instead of coming into Camelot draped over a horse, Gwaine rode in with his face plastered against Percival's back, drooling on his friend's chainmail.

Seeing that Gwaine was insensible, the guards called ahead, and four knights came running out, lead by Leon.

"What's wrong with him?" demanded Leon, freeing Gwaine and pulling him down.

"What isn't?" grumbled Percival as he swung down himself, but he briefly grinned. "He was tortured by Morgana, and he's exhausted. He's been healed but he can't keep his eyes open."

"We'll get him to Gaius."

In fact, Gwaine didn't open his eyes the entire time the knights carried him to Gaius' chambers. "Place him on the cot," directed the physician. "Where is he injured?"

"Well, he's not," Percival struggled to explain. "Morgana tortured him somehow, with magic I guess because there wasn't a mark on him."

"How? What did she do? What did it look like?"

"I...don't know. It was out of my sight, but..." Percival glanced at the fire to hide the shame in his eyes. "I could hear him screaming." Leon put a hand on his shoulder, and the giant found he could speak again. "He was nearly dead when I freed him, but he was healed, also by magic. The one who healed him said he would need to rest a lot. He kept falling asleep and falling off the horse. That's more than needing rest. Is he going to be okay?"

"I need to examine him before I can give you that answer," said Gaius, working even as he spoke. "I'll need to see to your wounds, too." Percival glances down at himself in surprise. "You wrists, Percival. Now tell me, who is it that healed Gwaine?"

"That is a very long story," sighed Percival, looking at his mangled wrists. He'd simply forgotten about them with all that had happened. "I should tell it first to the queen."

Gaius nodded and Leon shooed the rest of the knights out of the room, which was feeling a bit crowded. He made sure one of them would inform Gwen of Gwaine's and Percival's return and the situation as they knew it.

"He'll be fine," Gaius finally announced. Leon and Percival exchanged relieved smiles. "He's suffering from exhaustion and dehydration, but other than that, he's in excellent condition. He just needs rest and time. Now let's see to your wrists."

"They're fine. I need to updated the queen --"

Gaius ignored his protests and grabbed his closest hand, turning it palm up so he could see the worst of the injury. "Be quiet and let me see. It will take a little time for the queen to gather the council to hear your tale anyhow." The physician talked quietly while he cleaned and dressed Percival's wrists. "I am glad to see you both returned. I've only been back a short while myself, and I was distressed to see your names on the list of the missing." The almost fatherly rebuke was subtle, but Percival heard it just the same. "By the way, I have never noticed Gwaine's pendant before. Is that new, do you know?"

Percival pondered the apparently offhand question. "I never noticed it before. In fact, I would swear that it wasn't there when I cut him free of the ropes. I don't know where it could have come from."

A page stuck his head in the door. "Physician, sirs, the queen requests you all come to the council room as soon as you can."

"Perfect timing." Gaius finished the dressing and instructed the page to inform the queen that he, Percival, and Leon would be there shortly, and to find someone to sit with Gwaine.

Soon, the round table was nearly full. The two seats to the queen's left were conspicuously empty, as was Gwaine's and two more of the knights that had been killed in the battle. The councilors, including Gaius, sat in a larger circle beyond the table.

"I am glad you are back," Gwen greeted Percival after she'd welcomed everyone and opened the meeting. "You should not have gone after Morgana alone and without informing others of what you were doing. It sounds like you nearly paid for that decision with your lives."

Her quiet words hit Percival with the force of a sledgehammer, and he swallowed, inclined his head. "I am sorry, your majesty."

She gave him a hint of a smile. "That decision has cost you enough. Now, we need to hear the details of your capture and what you can tell us about Morgana. And we are most curious to hear about Gwaine's healing. Was it the sorcerer from the battlefield who aided you? The one called Emrys?"

Percival told the entire tale, from the moment they departed to their arrival back in Camelot. More than once, the room erupted as people reacted to his words, but Gwen quickly quieted them so he could continue. When he finished, people around the room began to all talk at once, but Gwen rose to her feet, every inch a queen, her face a well of calm.

"We can discuss where Morgana might have gone, the dragon, Merlin, magical injuries, and the many other ramifications of what we've heard another time. Before anything else happens, we must send a contingent to the Lake of Avalon. Sir Leon, take the largest group of knights we can spare and make haste."

"We cannot have you and Camelot vulnerable," argued an older knight by the name of Geraint. He'd been seriously wounded in the battle, but refused to miss the council meeting.

"Camelot is vulnerable without its king." Gwen's voice was pure steel. She rose and looked at Leon. "Sir Leon, bring back my husband. And Merlin too."


	8. The Law of Friendship

_AN: Friendship! Feels! Insults! Enjoy. lol_

CHAPTER 8:_ The Law of Friendship_

"Come on, now, Merlin. Open your eyes. Obey your king for once and open your eyes."

The voice became a line Merlin could follow, a golden thread out of the labyrinth of his troubled mind. He wanted to wake, but he struggled when the voice stopped. He wanted to say the name that went with that voice, but he wasn't sure how to get that message to his mouth.

"That's it. At least you're trying. I have some fresh water for you if you open your eyes." Merlin became aware that his mouth was dry. Drier than a desert. He licked his lips. "You want that water, don't you?"

Merlin followed the voice again, and with great effort he lifted his lids. His vision was blurry, but the first thing he saw made the events of the last few days rush back to him. "Arthur! Arthur, how is your injury?" He tried to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hold on. Let me help you." The king propped him up, sending jolts of pain through his right arm and back, and most especially, his head. The water at his lips was heavenly. "Look, I can pretend to be a servant too."

Merlin smiled and blinked hard, his vision clearing just a little. "Your wound?"

Arthur helped him lay back again and lifted his shirt. There were two new scars, a long, raised slice on his abdomen and a much smaller but darker triangle just below his heart. They weren't wounds any more, but scars that looked as if they were a month or two old. "I feel amazing. They don't hurt at all." He had a strange expression on his face.

"I know I used my magic --"

"Thank you. For saving my life." He still had that odd expression.

"What? Am I the one dying now?"

"What? No, Merlin. It's just..." He trailed off.

Merlin knew he wouldn't like whatever was bothering the king. "Show me." Arthur glanced away. "Arthur. Show me." Reluctantly, Arthur held up his sword and Merlin could see his face in the reflection. His left eyelid drooped and the sclera was completely red.

"Your arm is broken too, and you're a giant bruise. I don't know what you did...well, I do know what you did. Why did it hurt you like this?"

"I bent the laws of magic," admitted Merlin, trying again to sit up again, managing with Arthur's help. "It slammed me around a bit." He couldn't quite hide a small grunt of pain as he did so.

"_A bit?_ You are a master of understatement, Merlin." He gave his friend the intent stare that even the knights struggled to maintain when it was turned on them. "And?"

"And that crystal was not something that was meant to be made. It was harvested from the home of magic – it is magic. But then it was carved and shaped and polished so that when it touches someone, it takes their natural magic and amplifies it, causes it to repeat and repeat and repeat until it's bigger than it was ever meant to be." Merlin shook his head and the world swayed nauseatingly.

"Whoa, steady," said Arthur.

Merlin frowned but sat still. "Anyway, I think what the crystal did actually changed\ time, and started changing destiny. That's not something you're supposed to meddle with. And it used my magic to do it. I think it caused damage to my brain." Despite his dizziness, Merlin saw the twinkle in the king's eye.

"How can you tell?"

"Pompous cabbage head."

"Lazy buffoon."

They both smirked. "Why isn't your magic healing you?" Arthur wanted to know.

"I think it's trying. But I lost some of my magic when the Sidhe used it to heal you. I don't think it's as strong any more. Or maybe it can't heal what was caused by magic. I don't really know. Hey, where is the crystal now?"

"Here." Arthur turned to get it, and Merlin lurched forward to stop him.

"Don't touch it!" For his trouble, he almost ended up on his face. Thanks to Arthur's reflexes, he was instead caught and lowered back to his sitting position.

"Don't hurt yourself, you moron. I'm not going to touch it." Arthur was one part fond and one part exasperated as he held up the crystal with his shirt over his hand. I already touched it once, and I don't care to have visions again." He glanced at the offending crystal, now cracked all the way across and fully black. His eyes went distant.

"What did you See?" asked Merlin softly, remembering the impact of what the crystal had showed him.

"I Saw so much." Arthur's voice was miles away, and Merlin waited. Finally, the king's eyes refocused. "I Saw you bargaining with Nimueh for my life – with your life. I Saw you take a mace to the chest because you were distracted trying to protect me. I Saw you cure me of poison and order wyverns away and sending light when I was climbing in a cave. I Saw you try to cross the veil Morgana opened so I wouldn't have to. I Saw you create a rock fall so you were trapped with the mercenaries but I was free." He tilted his head back and looked up at the tree branches above. "I saw you defend and protect me time and again with no thought for yourself."

"You didn't know," defended Merlin, trying to rub his eyes. The blurred vision was getting worse again. His right arm was bound against his body and he belatedly remembered Arthur saying it was broken. He rubbed gently with his left hand, getting blood on his hand.

"I wish I had. I...would have been kinder."

"No, you wouldn't have."

Arthur laughed softly. "We have to get you to Camelot."

"Even if I could ride a horse, we don't have one," argued Merlin, closing his eyes to stop the world from spinning. He thought he might just take a nice rest.

"Yes we do." Arthur waved his hand at a handsome black gelding. "This fine fellow was just wandering around by the lake."

"Oh, that's Morgana's horse," Merlin realized.

"Morgana!" Arthur reflexively reached for his sword.

"Don't worry. She's gone. The Sidhe took her. They required a Pendragon to pay for their help, and they took her into the lake." He sighed.

"The Sidhe...those weird little blue things?"

"Yeah. Did the crystal show you those too?"

Arthur nodded. "Sofia was one, right? I mean, sort of?" He smiled. "You pulled me out of the lake."

"You're heavy too." Merlin shifted and winced. "You need to get back, but I can't travel. You should go. Camelot needs you."

"You know I won't leave without you. But we do have to figure out how to avoid the Saxons and get back there." He gave Merlin a speculative look. "You know, when the...veil opened between this world and the next for me, your dragon spoke. I think he may be dead. Otherwise I'd say we should get a lift. I'd like to be awake for a dragon ride."

Merlin reflected for a moment on what they had seen and experienced, especially over the last few days, and wondered if anyone would believe it all. "I asked him to save Gwaine's life. Morgana was killing him. I think the dragon gave the last of his own life to save Gwaine. He knew it might happen." Merlin felt sadness wash over him. Kilgarrah had understood things about him that nobody else had. Another friend lost.

"We'll figure something else out. Rest now. You look like you need it. I'll keep watch." Merlin wanted to tell Arthur that it was _his_ job to watch out for _Arthur, _not the other way around, but before he could, he fell asleep. So he didn't hear the low growling emanating from the woods around them.


	9. Doubts are Traitors

AN: Thank you, as always, for your lovely comments!

Wolf11: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Your idea intrigued me...and yes, Gwaine, the dragon lord – terrifying. Lol

sandhopper: You are such a great cheerleader. Thanks for the kind words!

mersan123: I appreciate your comments and insight! Muah!

Gingeraffealene: I adore your comments, especially about Gwaine! Hehe

Hugs to all and thanks for sticking with me! Also: enjoy sassy Gaius.

CHAPTER 9: Doubts Are Traitors

When Percival entered Gaius' chambers shortly before dawn to have his wrists re-wrapped, just as he'd been instructed, the physician was arguing with Gwaine. "You are in no way fit to go on a journey, especially one full of danger, Gwaine."

"I feel perfectly fine," Gwaine argued, pushing Gaius' restraining arm aside and getting off the cot.

"Be that as it may, you are not going. Your body has been healed from a great injury and it needs time recover. You don't even know if you'll be able to stay awake. Do you want to risk the lives of everyone who rides out with you?"

"I won't risk them!" Gwaine was pulling on his vest. "They need me."

Gaius' lips pressed so tightly closed that they disappeared, and Percival looked between the two men, feeling torn. He didn't want to be disloyal to the knight, but he also knew that the older man would not be so insistent if it weren't important.

But Gaius just nodded. "Fine. Go. I won't be responsible for your welfare if you can't keep up." He turned away from the stubborn man. "And eat your breakfast!" He poured a cup of tea and set it down hard next to the plate that was waiting. He looked at Percival, who was still hovering awkwardly just inside the doorway. "Will you at least follow my instructions?"

"Yes?" Percival hadn't seen the physician in this mood before. He meekly sat where he was directed and allowed Gaius to unwrap, clean, and re-wrap his wrists. They didn't really bother him, but were a mass of ugly scabs, and he wasn't about to argue with Gaius when he was already annoyed at Gwaine. When they were finished, Gaius waved a hand toward the table, where Gwaine was fast asleep with his face on his empty plate.

"Before we leave, would you kindly put Gwaine back on the cot?"

Percival nodded, "Of course." He couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from crooking up.

Gaius noticed. "What kind of physician would I be if I couldn't keep my patients where they belong? If he wanted to go, he shouldn't have drunk the tea." Gaius surprised Percival once more when he gathered his own things, obviously preparing to go on the journey too.

"Are you coming with us, Gaius?"

"I certainly am. The king is wounded, and I am still his physician. Not to worry, I'm not too old to ride a horse!"

And so, Leon, Percival, Gaius, and four more knights set out for the Lake of Avalon. They didn't take much care for stealth, focusing instead on swiftness. They came on a few Saxons wandering aimlessly, but they fled without fighting. One ran with such panic that he crashed into a tree, and Percival jumped off his horse and grabbed him, pulling his sword.

"Wait," called Gaius. "We should question him."

The man was barely coherent, but he claimed that lights had come out of a lake had eaten Morgana and that a dragon flew overhead. The knights were predictably skeptical, but Gaius listened closely. The prisoner made it clear that the Saxons were fleeing in discord, as they'd seen. He didn't know who – if anyone – was in charge. He didn't know of any rallying points or plans for either retreat or attack. His ramblings got wilder and wilder. He talked about seeing an ethereal woman who floated rather than walked, a toad larger than a crocodile, and hounds with eyes and fur made of fire. When it became obvious that he had nothing else to tell them, Gaius pulled Leon aside.

"If we let him go, his tales will spread fear among every Saxon he meets. It could do a lot toward encouraging them to continue to retreat."

Leon smiled. "That is devious of you, physician."

"Well, I did spend much of my life in Uther's court." Gaius gave Leon an arch look.

"I like the idea, except we are getting very close to the Lake of Avalon. Let us see what the king wants to do with him."

"You're right, of course." Gaius felt an immediate pang. He had assumed Arthur dead, and he felt guilty for that. He needed to have more faith in Merlin, and in Arthur's strength. Sick to his stomach at his own lack of faith, Gaius gave Leon a quick smile and pretended to busy himself with his horse. I'm sorry, Merlin, he thought. No more doubts.


	10. The Dogs of War

_AN: In the words of the Tenth Doctor (from Doctor Who), I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. _

CHAPTER 10: _The Dogs of War_

Merlin came awake as he was hauled upright, his good arm thrown across a broad shoulder. "Wh-what?"

"Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, Merlin, but we have to get out of the trees."

Merlin tried to help, but mostly he hung off his friend's side with his feet scrabbling uselessly. He trembled with weakness and hated every second of it. The worst part was the motion. With every step, his head spun until he wasn't sure which direction was up. "Arthur, st-stop! I'm going to be sick. Just set me d-down."

"Hang on, just a little farther," Arthur encouraged. "I need to get far enough out of the trees to have a little space to move." Even as he hustled them along, he threw a concerned glance at Merlin, whose head was lolling with every step. "You can rest in just a minute, lazybones."

"Just stop the world from spinning and I'll be happy to walk on my own, your highness," mumbled Merlin, trying to sound like his normal self.

"I've been concussed before," said Arthur, laying Merlin down quickly but carefully. "Lie as still as you can and keep your eyes closed. I'll handle...this."

"What is _this _exactly?"

Instead of an answer, Merlin heard a low growl, echoed several other places, and the familiar ring of Arthur pulling his sword. "Oh sure, I'll just lie here with my eyes closed while the mystery monsters attack. Am I allowed to open my eyes if they start to eat me, or is that a bad idea?" Merlin knew he was talking too quietly for Arthur to hear, but he'd long had the habit of babbling when he was nervous. Lying essentially helpless on the cold ground while a recently-healed Arthur fought off unknown creatures alone? Yes, that definitely qualified.

Arthur turned toward the threats in the trees, stepping a few paces in front of Merlin. He broadened his stance and made his knees soft with the right half a step behind the left. He raised his sword just above shoulder level and drew his elbow back, pointing the weapon toward the threat. It was something that Uther had made him do when he was an impulsive boy with the tendency to attack without thinking. _You can take the advantage when you make them attack first, _he had said_. Find their weaknesses. Every enemy has weaknesses._

There were at least five sets of eyes among the trees, with flickering flames for irises. Arthur pushed away the fear this caused and instead thought, okay, flaming eyes make them easy to see. I will consider that their first weakness.

The monsters he faced were giant hounds, standing nearly four feet at the ruff. Whenever they growled, blue flames danced over the black fur on their backs. That was a strength, he supposed, though it also made them easier to spot. And if they came close enough to burn him, he was probably already dead. Their canines, top and bottom both, extended past their lips so their appeared to be constantly snarling. They slunk in, keeping their bodies low to the ground, spreading out to maximize the area he had to watch.

If they fought like ordinary hounds, one or more would try to flank him to get at Merlin, who they would see as easier prey. The others would dart in and slash at his arms or legs and retreat, looking to bleed and weaken him. They would take turns distracting him while others attacked, and wear him down until they could go for the throat. He had to cut down on their numbers, keep them from Merlin, and stay alive until...until what he wouldn't allow himself to finish the thought, but chances were, it wouldn't turn out well.

As he finished his analysis, in less than three seconds, the hound to the far right slashed at his ankles, but he saw that it was a feint, and he spun instead to his left and found, as expected, that it was just a distraction. His slice missed, but caused the hound that had been heading for Merlin to leap back. All four took two steps backward, as if reevaluating this foe.

The next move was two at once, again not unexpected, but also just a test and not a true attack. Arthur pivoted without thought, moving to parry one with his sword and the other with a gauntlet. He could see them watch how he moved, and could sense they would go for his legs next. His leather pants offered far less protection than his chainmail, and they only had to draw blood once to realize it.

The next strike was lighting-fast and high and close enough that Arthur's sword deflected off of the hound's teeth. He allowed his momentum to keep him spinning and dipped his knee slightly so he could increase his momentum. As he'd expected, a second hound was coming from his blind side, but it was even lower than he'd thought, so his strike hit its shoulder, wounding it but not incapacitating it. Behind it was a third attacker, not one of the original five, and it was far closer to Merlin than he could allow.

Arthur lost his strategy for the first time and stepped closer, slashing twice so the tip of his sword inscribed the shape of an x. The move put him too close to Merlin and pulled him slightly too far forward. So when his very first attacker came up again from behind him, he didn't have the space to move his feet. All he could do as the hound dove at him was to shove his forearm into its mouth. It clamped down on his arm, but he shoved back into the bite, ignoring the pain, and giving himself room to bring his sword around in an arc and stab into the hound's side.

He felt a moment of relief when his sword slid in and the creature gave a wheezing yelp. He hadn't let the thought materialize, but there had been a hint of fear that they somehow couldn't be killed. But with the adrenaline rush, he'd made his second mistake. He'd pushed the sword in too far, and it stuck hard when he tried to pull it back out. It took three tries to pull it free, and by then the five remaining hounds had surrounded him.

Arthur breathed slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He had learned long ago that to panic in battle was to die. Everything slowed down for a moment and he saw things in perfect clarity. It was like the fight was a dance and he knew exactly what the next move would be. It happened sometimes, the product of experience or practice or insight, who could say. The muscles rippled on the hound farthest away and Arthur knew it would leap high and long. He ducked completely under the charge, swinging his sword down with both hands to his left, where he could feel the next hound was coming from. The strike nearly decapitated it.

Spinning to his left and thrusting the sword instead of fighting, pushing his left arm behind him for balance, he stabbed another through the heart. He quickly kicked it off his blade – good lord those things were heavy – and turned back to make sure Merlin was still safe.

He was in time to see the final hound darting in between him and the sorcerer, whose eyes were screwed shut as if in pain. Arthur overreacted and dove toward it, not realizing this was another distraction. Instead of keeping his feet, he hurled himself across the distance to stab it straight down between the shoulder blades. He had the impression the beast had not expected him to be so fast.

But the maneuver had caused him to turn his back on two others and get in too close to Merlin, impacting the space he had to move. By the time he'd regained his balance and pulled his sword free, a mouth had closed on his calf and a second hound leaped to straddle Merlin. Down on one knee, Arthur pushed his sword through the one that threatened Merlin and slammed his left elbow into the one savaging his leg over and over, trying to get it to let go.

Its hold slipped just enough for Arthur to draw his dagger and send it into the eye of the hound. His left arm screamed at the motion and his hand burned like he'd put it in a fire, but the hound fell limp. Even in death though, its jaws did not let go. Another caught him, shoulder to shoulder, as it dove past and knocked him onto his back across Merlin's torso, his back leg bent underneath him. The hound whirled to attack and Arthur stabbed up desperately, somehow finding the strength or desperation to push the sword between two ribs. The hound died soundlessly and tipped over onto Merlin's legs taking the sword with it. Arthur's right hand was trapped under it and his left was starting to go numb from the crushing injury it had taken. His weapons were gone. And there was at least one more hound, the one he'd injured.

Arthur pulled with all of his remaining strength to try to get his hand free, but it didn't budge. A low growl out of sight maybe 15 feet above his head made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He had hoped it might slink off and give up, since its partners were all dead and it was injured, but no such luck. He pulled again, grunting with the effort, but the dead hound didn't move. With a grunt and a sigh, Arthur let his head fall back. "Sorry, Merlin. Guess I missed one of the burning wolf things."

To his surprise, Merlin answered. "If I gave up half my magic to save your life and you allow us to be eaten by burning wolf thingies, I will follow you through the afterlife annoying you for all eternity."

"That's fair."

Merlin grunted a little. "You know, you're really heavy. I don't suppose you can move?"

"Hey! It's not all me! There's a hound on you too. And...my armor." Merlin may have snickered.

The wounded hound growled again and limped into sight. Merlin twitched. "How close is it? I can't see. Touch my hand to it, Arthur."

"What? It will burn you!"

"Or it will tear out our throats."

Seeing his point, Arthur reached back with his left hand and felt around until he found Merlin's arm, then wrist. He listened for the growl of their final enemy, then shoved his friend's hand into the chest of the hound.

Merlin made a pained sound, then the it was the hound that screamed. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw in amazement that its flames had turned bright red and grown much larger. Yowling, it stumbled out of sight.

"Nice," said Arthur. "Now maybe I c-can try to get up, Merlin. Merlin?"

But he was silent and still. Giving one more futile tug on his trapped arm, Arthur said a word that his father had told him a king would never say, and let his eyes slip shut.


	11. Beware My Fangs

_AN: Should I apologize for more angst? Nah. lol I will apologize for the length of this chapter, though. I had to get to a natural stopping point.__Signal27: nice to "see" you again. Thanks for sticking with me.__Gingeraffealene: as usual, you made me laugh. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far.__Most recent "guest": thank you for your kind words!_

CHAPTER 11: _Beware My Fangs_

Arthur only let himself wallow for a moment. Then, as he'd been taught, he divided what he had to do by order of urgency. Step one: get up. He couldn't move the bloody hound, but his wrist was trapped between the hound and Merlin's leg. Perhaps he could slide his wrist sideways. With effort, he slid it up and – there! – it fell off the side of Merlin's leg, giving him the space to pull free.

It took some doing to get his right leg straightened and sit up without pushing down on poor Merlin, but he managed. With a grunt, he pried the jaws off his left calf and climbed to his knees.

His next goal was to regain his sword, which took only a second. He broke from his methodical list for a moment to tap Merlin's cheek, but the latter didn't react. He knew he should make sure he himself was alright first, because he was no help to anyone if he passed out, but it was hard to turn away from his friend.

Gaining his feet made his next priority glaringly obvious: take care of his torn right calf. His pant leg was soaked with blood and the leg nearly gave way. He'd have to stop the bleeding, and fast. He whistled for his newly-acquired horse and it came right out of the trees. Say what you want about Morgana, she knew how to train a horse. He found a cloak in one of the saddle bags and retrieved his dagger to cut off several long strips. He wrapped them around the injured area over his pants as tightly as he could stand. It hurt going on, but the pressure immediately helped. More care would have to wait.

Now he had to move the hound off Merlin's legs. He considered using his sword as a lever to pry the thing off, but there was too much potential for damage to Merlin if he slipped. After a few moments of contemplation, he realized that there was a rope attached to the horse's saddle. He grabbed it and tied it around the heavy body. The other end he tied to the saddle horn, then lead the horse away until it had done the work for him.

He stroked the silky black nose. The horse really was a beauty. "You shall have the nicest stall in all of Camelot," he promised. "You are fit for a queen."

That lead his to the task he'd been waiting for but also dreading: check Merlin for further injuries. A quick once-over revealed no blood, to his relief. It seemed like the hounds hadn't reached him. But with him unconscious again, Arthur had no idea how he could help. He found a bedroll on the horse and carefully put it under Merlin's head. As he did, the sorcerer's eyes suddenly flew open and he grabbed Arthur's wrist in a bruising grip. The irises were completely gold. When he spoke, his voice didn't sound like his, but like that of an old man. The transformation was so complete Arthur thought he could actually see a familiar, long-haired man superimposed over the Merlin he knew.

"Once and Future King, uniter of Albion, cheater of death, destiny-changer. To birth your dynasty, you must unite the seven. Of the twelve, two have been lost and three are not yet. Unite the seven, Noble Courage. Unite. The. Seven." Images flashed past Arthur's eyes too fast to see them all: parchment, an hourglass, the Pendragon crest. Then Merlin dropped his wrist, his eyes turned back to normal blue, and the images disappeared.

"What was _that?!" _demanded the king.

"What was what?" Merlin looked adorably confused, and his voice was back to normal.

"All of that stuff," Arthur waved his hand. "unite the seven, you know."

Merlin's face was totally blank. "Arthur, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Your eyes went all weird and gold," Arthur was annoyed. "And you talked in this old man voice about birthing a dynasty and uniting seven. You called me Noble Courage or something."

"I would never call you something so nice," teased Merlin groggily. "It's so strange that I don't know what I said. But if my eyes were gold, I was doing magic somehow." He blinked slowly. His mind was running at about half speed, it felt like. He knew there was significance to what Arthur was telling him, but the pain in his head was so distracting.

"How are you feeling?" Arthur changed the subject. "I took care of those fiery hounds while you took a nice lie-down."

"Mph."

"Then you won't mind if we move farther from the trees?"

"No!" Well, yelling hurt too. "No, Arthur, I can't. My head hurts --" everything hurt, really, "but I'm okay if I just don't try to move."

"I'm afraid we don't have much choice." Arthur's mouth set in a grim line. "There are more of them."

"You're hurt!" Merlin realized. "Let me try and heal you."

"Wait, no, Merlin. When you killed that hound, it hurt you, and you passed out. You need your energy. If you can, heal yourself. Otherwise, you need to rest." He used his sword to help him stand. "Now, get better so I can yell at you for hiding your magic." Merlin's answer was lost in a growl that was echoed half a dozen other places just out of sight in the trees.

Arthur took three limping steps away from Merlin, aware that he was in no shape to take on another contingent of the beasts, but not willing to lie down and give up. He'd realized that he knew the old visage that he'd seen superimposed over Merlin's face, and the visions the crystal had showed him proved that this was just another facet of his friend. "You think you can attack Emrys while he is weak and injured?" he growled. "Come on, then, and see if he is without allies."

The first hound snarled and flew right at his torso, but Arthur had anticipated this. Dropping to one knee, he held his sword out in front of him, braced with his body weight, and allowed the creature's own weight and momentum to impale it. He pulled the sword free and rose again, parrying a lunge at his left, but the injured leg gave way and the hound was not deflected as much as he'd hoped. Hound and man crashed together to the ground, though Arthur rolled free before he was crushed. He climbed to his knees and fought from there, staring down death in the form of piercing teeth.

But right before death found him _again_, he heard the sound of thundering hooves and ringing steel. The hound that was less than a foot from his face yelped and disappeared. Leon stood before him, offering a hand up.

"Never let it be said that you lack a sense of timing," said Arthur with a tired and very relieved laugh, accepting the hand up. Recalling the situation, he added, "protect Merlin. He's badly injured."

"We've got you, Sire," responded the knight, and Arthur realized the hounds were all fleeing into the woods in response to the overwhelming force.

"Couldn't leave some for us to kill, eh Arthur?" asked Percival with a huge smile, clasping the king's forearm next.

Then Gaius was in front of him, grasping both his arms. "Arthur!" he broke protocol, fairly unusual for him since Arthur had become king. Arthur was touched and a little embarrassed to see the sheen of tears in the physician's eyes. "I – I thought you might be...well, suffice it to say I am more than pleased to see you."

Arthur grasped Gaius' arms back. "Merlin wasn't about to let me die, I guess." Then his smile melted off and a frown took its place. "Merlin needs you, Gaius. I don't know how to help him."

Gaius' gaze flicked from Arthur to Merlin and back again. He looked torn. "It seems you both need my services."

"Merlin first," insisted the king. "That's an order. My wounds are minor, but he has a head injury."

Gaius nodded and hurried to his ward, affection clear on his lined face.

Suddenly, a scream split the air. The captured Saxon was staring at Arthur with a look of pure horror. He raised his bound wrists to point. "You were mortally wounded! You were _dead! _Can't. You. Be. Killed?"

The words he needed came to Arthur. "I am the Once and Future King. Emrys fights at my side. Tell your king or whomever you serve that to attack those I consider mine is to beg for death." The man stumbled back, unable to speak for fear. Arthur nodded at the closest knight, Sir Bedivere. "Cut him free." The man fled without a backwards glance, and Leon nodded to himself. The king had done just what he and Gaius had thought prudent, but first he'd made the man even more frightened. Perfect.

"We have to move away from the trees," Arthur instructed Leon. "It is hard for Merlin to be moved, so have two men do it as gently as possible."

"Yes, Sire. We'll make camp and build a fire so Gaius can take care of you both." Without asking permission, Leon pulled Arthur's arm across his own shoulder and only grunted when the king complained.

Percival and a young man Arthur only knew as Leon's new protege gently carried Merlin, and the young man's awed, whispered words reached them. "Look at how many he killed _on his own!_"

"You have an admirer, Arthur," smirked Leon.

"Shut it, Leon."


	12. Voice of the Dragon

AN: Eek, it was hard to get this chapter right! I completely rewrote it twice. It's getting metaphysical again, which always makes me nervous that people will be "weirded out." Anyway, it was fun to write more Gwaine.

Thanks to my 2 most faithful commenters, mersan123 and Gingeraffealene. You both give me such great insight, and ideas, too. Be careful what you wish for...this story is getting loooooooooooooooooong and there's a lot more coming yet. lol

Please and enjoy, and comment to let me know what you think!

CHAPTER 12: Voice of the Dragon

"Gwaine. Gwaaaaaaine." The voice echoed eerily. "Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaine."

"I'll pay you tomorrow," grumbled the knight, annoyed at its persistence.

"Now is the time to listen, dragon lord."

"Oh, it's you." He put all his disgust into the last word. He went to get up, walk away, but he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't do or see or feel anything. There was nothing but the sound of that voice, and his own when he replied. "You're a giant, flying lizard. And you're dead. Get out of my brain!"

"No, dragon lord. There is much you need to know, and if I come to you while you sleep, you have no choice but to hear me."

"I'll wake up then." He was defiant.

"No, you won't. The physician gave you a powerful sleeping draught to aid your healing. You will sleep for a long while yet, dragon lord."

Gwaine actually growled. "Stop calling me that, Kilgarrah!" He knew who he was. He was the son of a knight and his common-born wife, the former of whom had died in battle when his only son was an infant, never even having seen him, the latter of whom literally worked herself to death by the time Gwaine was 14. He was a jack of all trades, a champion fighter, a soldier of fortune who never stayed in one place. He was the one who renounced his own nobility and would drink a pint on your dime, beat you in a fight, and somehow make you laugh and forgive him. Somehow, he'd become a knight on his own merits and had found a king worth dying for and the first real friends he'd ever had. That's who he was. Not some mystical lord to ridiculous creatures that shouldn't even exist.

"But that is what you are," insisted that richly-textured voice. "And you should be grateful, for if you were not, you would be dead. Merlin asked me to heal you, but you were too severely injured for me to save you if I had not found that thread of connection between us. That necklace that your mother made you swear to never take off? It has been enchanted to hide your existence from the entire magical world, but when I touched you, I could see the truth."

Gwaine pictured his necklace. On it was his mother's wedding ring and a hammered metal circle with a smaller circle cut out of the bottom. No matter that it literally resisted being removed, it was just sentimental. It wasn't magical. "Wait..." he said, struggling to discount Kilgarrah's words. "Maybe you didn't heal me after all. Maybe I died. Is this my punishment for sleeping with that nobleman's wife...and her sister?"

"Gwaine."

"No, wait, I'm still alive, but I'm having a fever. Once I dreamed I was as large as a castle and had to find an ocean to bathe in. You are nothing but a fever dream, dragon!"

The voice gave a low growl. "I am the product of neither fever nor a punishment of the afterlife, and despite your denials, you know it. Just like you know your father's face and mannerisms, though you never met him. Just like you know about far away places you've never been to. Just like you knew the one place to stab a wyvern to kill it instantly, though you'd never been told. Just like you somehow know who Emrys really is, and why you felt an instant connection to him when you met him and Arthur. Even he told you that you are more than you seem."

"Merlin," whispered Gwaine. Merlin was Emrys and the greatest sorcerer of all time. The he growled. "No!" He could not accept it.

"A dragon lord's power moves from father to son when the father dies. Merlin, already a sorcerer, came into the power as a young man, and had help to assimilate and understand his new information. You were an infant, alone." Kilgarrah sighed gustily. "For that, I am sorry. When dragon lords were plentiful, orphans were mentored and helped."

"I know those things because I'm intuitive!" Gwaine yelled. He knew he was being petulant, childish, and hot-headed, but he didn't care. He felt in his very soul that Kilgarrah's words would change everything, and he wanted nothing more than to stuff his ears with cotton.

"No. You. Are. Different." Each word fell like a hammer onto an anvil. "You run and run and run, hiding behind laughter and acting the idiot, from drink to drink and fight to fight and woman to woman to try and hide from what's inside of you. To drown the feeling that you are something more, and that you are missing a piece of your soul. But when the broken dragon in the forests around Camelot cries and no one else can hear it, you stand on the ramparts and wish you could go to sleep and never wake up. Because you ache to heal its anguish, but you don't know how."

Though he wasn't experiencing his body at all, Gwaine felt like there was a crushing weight on his chest. He let very few people in, and nobody had ever known half of what Kilgarrah did. He couldn't answer. He was terrified – and he was never scared, not even when normal people were. But he was also terrifyingly hopeful as he waited for the dragon's next words.

"You and Merlin are the only living dragon lords. He made a sacrifice of much of his magic, and with it, has changed time and created a new age of dragons and other magical creatures. You have a great responsibility now. Even if Merlin survives, he will have other things he must focus on. It has to be you, Gwaine."

"If Merlin survives?" Despite the impact of the rest of the dragon's words, Gwaine latched onto that worrying fact. "I have to go help him!"

"You cannot at this time. Your role is strength, but you are weakened. He is not alone. He is with the Pendragon and the physician and some others. They may be able to save him. Now, you must listen. You have a great destiny too. Perhaps your father knew that, and knew that you must be hidden until this day."

Gwaine felt like his soul was seared, like his reality was shifting and adjusting, and it hurt. But he also felt it was right. He had never run scared in his entire life. Taking a long moment to center himself, Sir Gwaine, son of Sir Jonathan and Elaine, knight of Camelot, friend to Emrys, and dragon lord, metaphorically faced his dragon. "Okay, lizard. I'm listening."


	13. Happy Respite

AN: It's not the most exciting chapter, but it had to happen to cover a bunch of details and introduce a new character. More action soon, promise.

OeschnerC: Thank you!!!

mersan123: To quote Princess Bride, "yes, you're very smart. Now shut up." I'm so kidding, but you are spot on with why there are now hellhounds and other magical beings. You have the right idea for dragons too. :-) I appreciate your thoughts and I feel kinda sorry for Gwaine too...and Kilgarrah!

Gingeraffealene: Aw, thanks so much! I am SO glad you enjoy it. I have loved writing Gwaine and sticking him with Kilgarrah to watch them play off each other. I can 'hear' every word of their interactions in my head as I write_ it.__Final note...sorry I'm having so much trouble with formatting. *sigh*_

I hope you all keep reading!

CHAPTER 13: Happy Respite

There was a lot to do before nightfall. Arthur pulled free from Leon and began to give everyone jobs, though technically, that should have been Leon's role, since he'd lead the rescue effort.

Gaius had knelt down next to Merlin. As soon as he touched the other man's wrist, Merlin sat straight up, causing Gaius to fall to his hands and knees and everyone to look over. Merlin's eyes, even the damaged one, glowed with burnished gold. He began to speak tonelessly in that old, old voice, staring at nothing.

"Catalyst," he said. "Father of none, yet without you there would be neither side of the coin. Faithful traitor to the old king. "You seek to protect, assist destiny. Honor and redemption have passed over. Seven remain. Unite the seven." He blinked and gasped, his eyes going back to blue and slumped into Gaius.

Merlin shaded his eyes and looked around. He looked utterly bemused. "Hello?" he said in his awkward way. "What's...why is everyone staring at me?"

"Lie back, my boy," said Gaius.

They don't know that I'm aware of his magic and have accepted it, thought Arthur. He put a restraining hand against Leon's chest. "As you can see, Merlin has magic," he said loudly. "He used it to save me from what was surely a mortal wound. That is what injured him so." He was talking fast, only realizing how he believed his words as he spoke them. "He has always, only used his magic to help and protect – me, you, all of Camelot. I revoke the ban on magic and name Merlin an ally of Camelot."

Leon looked down at the hand against his chest. "We're not going to hurt Merlin, Arthur." Arthur took a breath and dropped his hand. It occurred to him that while everyone had looked at Merlin while he had is episode or whatever it was, only Leon's page had seemed surprised.

"We already learned that Merlin had magic," Percival added. "He sent a dragon to save Gwaine's life, and that made it pretty clear. The queen said to bring you both back safely and that you'd figure it out from there."

Arthur looked at every trusted face. "You are taking it better than I did," he admitted. "But what was that? He did it earlier too, and didn't remember it then either." The rush of changing emotions plus his exhaustion caught up to the king all at once and he swayed slightly. Leon caught his elbow, and Gaius noticed.

"Sire, we can discuss this after I've finished treating you and Merlin. You need to get your armor off so I can check you over. Bites and scratches from hell hounds get infected easily." He used his I'm-your-doctor-and-you-won't-argue voice. He looked at the young man who'd been helping him gather his supplies. "Help the king with his armor, please."

Arthur pulled his elbow free from Leon's grasp as that knight gave him a slightly sour look. "Let me take care of everything here, Arthur. We can handle it."

Arthur nodded, knowing he should have let Leon handle it from the beginning. The young page came up, blushing slightly under his shock of red hair.

"What's your name, then," asked Arthur, holding out his right gauntlet for the boy to remove.

"Galahad, your majesty." His movements were confident, but he was slightly breathless.

"Leon is sponsoring you, is that right?"

"Yes, sire."

"I'm impressed." And he was. "Leon never sponsors anyone. He must believe you will make a fine knight some day." Over the boy's shoulder, Arthur saw Merlin grimace as he drank one of Gaius' potions and felt a moment of sympathy. It seemed like the physician made them disgusting on purpose.

The blush intensified. "He said to train with him for two years, then petition to pledge for knighthood."

"You should train with us, then, at least two days a week. Leon can give you the schedule. You'll learn more by sparring with different knights than just one teacher, even one as talented as Leon." The boy had moved to the left gauntlet, and Arthur drew in a sudden breath as the injured arm was manipulated.

Galahad went as pale as he'd been red before. "I'm sorry, your majesty! I – "

"No need," assured Arthur, making certain his voice was even. "I forgot about the injury." He winced – internally only – at the sight of the chainmail embedded into his skin a few places. Gaius appeared and handed Arthur a small vial filled with something green.

"Take this before you continue," he advised. "It will help with the pain. And perhaps you should sit."

Arthur chugged it in one shot, knowing better than to argue too much. It was less vile than normal.

Getting off the chainmail was its own form of hell, but Galahad had steady hands, and at least it didn't take long. By the time they were finished, the king was more than ready to sit down. "Give me a hand, Galahad."

The boy grasped his good arm and helped him lower himself to the ground. He was probably still growing, but his was already strong, and almost as tall as Arthur. He could see the potential. Galahad squatted next to him. "How else can I help, your majesty?"

"Out here, I am Arthur. At court, I will expect you to call me by sire or my title until you've earned the right to use my first name. By while we're camping or on patrol, I am another knight, and you call me Arthur."

A small smile lit the young man's face, transforming him from slightly ordinary to quite handsome. "Thank you s – uh – Arthur!" He hesitated. "I really can train with the knights?"

"Absolutely. I'd quite like to see how you do. Now, I imagine you'd like some of that stew that Percival is making. Go sit for a few moments and eat."

"Yes...Arthur." The boy trotted off with a massive grin across his face, looking terribly young.

Next, Gaius came over. "Is the pain aid working at all?"

Arthur thought about it. "Yes, definitely."

"Good. You'll need it." With those ominous words, he began to clean and dress Arthur's arm.

"How is Merlin?" He tried to keep his question casual, but knew his concern bled into his tone.

Gaius sighed. "I do not believe his life is in immediate danger, but there was bleeding in the brain. I can speed the healing a bit, but it will take time. He needs quiet and rest more than anything. And some effects may be permanent."

His left eye, thought Arthur. "It seems to hurt him to do magic."

"I'm not surprised. I have to admit that I did not think there was any way he could save you from that wound. He must have used a massive amount of magic to do it. My guess is that it's magic burnout and with time he will be able to use it again."

Arthur noted that Gaius knew a heck of a lot about Merlin's magic, and must have been a mentor to him. But, he reasoned, Gaius was also a faithful friend of the crown, and to him personally. If he accepted Merlin's magic, and his deception about it, he had to accept Gaius' culpability as well.

"We're too exposed here. When will he be able to travel safely?"

Gaius thought for a moment as he spread a greenish paste onto Arthur's arm, one he'd seen before for bruises and contusions. "I think he can ride a horse tomorrow, but he cannot be jostled or go faster than a walk. Another bump on the head could be catastrophic, even fatal. It all depends on how well he can tolerate light tomorrow."

"Stop talking about me," said a petulant voice behind Gaius, making Arthur smile.

"Evesdropping, Merlin? How plebian!" The answering chuckle was weak, but reassured him more than all of Gaius' words.

"That's a lovely way to talk to an 'ally of Camelot,' your royal – "

"Go to sleep, Merlin," grumbled Gaius. "I can't believe that sleeping draught hasn't kicked in yet. Sleep is the best cure right now."

"I didn't take it yet," admitted his ward. "I wanted to hear what you said about me."

"Drink it now, or I'll get Percival to pour it down your throat."

Arthur laughed at Merlin's uncomplimentary response, until Gaius turned back to him and said. "You will get one too, after I clean and stitch your leg, and you'll be glad of it after that."

He was right. It wasn't pleasant. Arthur nearly passed out a few times, but managed to stay awake. He wanted to talk to the knights before he went to sleep for the night. Finally, they were finished. Arthur struggled to sit up, ignoring the glare from Gaius.

"Galahad," he called, "tell everyone to gather around a moment." When the knights had arrived, Arthur addressed them the best he could from his seat on the ground. "Well done, all of you. Your arrival saved both mine and Merlin's lives, and you've done a lot of work to set up a safe camp." And they had. They'd set up camp, made a perimeter, fetched water (not from the lake), made food, and even dragged all of the hell hound bodies into the trees. "I won't be able to take one of the watches tonight, but I trust each and every one of you to have my back. We leave for Camelot in the morning." He nodded to each and every man there, including Merlin, whose eyes were just slits. "Good night, my friends."

He did not like giving up control, but he was trying. It was one of his father's greatest failures to not use the good men around him to the best of their ability. With that in mind, Arthur swallowed the putrid gray liquid Gaius produced and let darkness take him.


	14. A Lean and Hungry Look

AN: Home sick, so I might as well write. I actually had this chapter sketched out before I wrote the previous one. Mersan123, you inspired this idea with a very early comment you made, so don't you dare apologize for your good guesses! :-) I take it as a compliment, meaning the story makes logical sense. Gingeraffealene, you make me smile!

BTW, I have to laugh at how my note about trouble with formatting...was mis-formatted. I don't know why I my italics sometimes don't show up, but oh well.

Enjoy! And if you're in the land of holycrapitscold like I am, stay warm and safe!

CHAPTER 14: A Lean and Hungry Look

Galahad walked slowly along the perimeter that Leon had established around the camp. Somewhere across the rough circle, Percival was doing the same thing. Galahad let his eyes shift constantly, changing the height and distance of his view at random, as Leon had taught him. Stay relaxed but still alert, he'd said. Look without expectations. We are hunters, and if you let your instincts rise to the surface, you'll notice anything that's out of place. So far there had been nothing except a few hellhounds, which stayed at a distance and just watched him go by without moving anything but their creepy eyes.

Still, Galahad didn't begrudge the lost sleep. He hadn't expected them to include him on watch duty now that they had the king himself to guard, but he had been put on the rotation, which had two at a time, just like the knights.

A distant relative and favorite of Leon's, he had idolized the knight as long as he could remember. The day he'd learned that the king had opened up the knighthood to commoners had been the third greatest day of his life. The day he'd come to Camelot so Leon could train him was the second. But today, well that was easily the greatest day of his whole life. He couldn't wait to write to his father and little sisters all about it!

He had traveled with a band of knights and had helped the king himself with his armor! Then, the king had asked his name, given him a compliment, and invited him to train with the knights. Galahad had to stop himself from pinching his own arm. He knew nothing was promised, and he'd have to work hard if he wanted to become one of Camelot's finest fighters, but the door was open if only he was willing to put in the work.

He would put in the work. He'd come to every training session he was allowed to, and listen to everyone's advice. He would do every single thing they told him to do. If he wasn't good enough to be a knight at the end of that, he could rest assured he had done everything he could. Still, he couldn't stop picturing himself in one of those red capes.

He was walking along the water's edge now, much more boring than moving among the trees. Reflexively, he scanned the dark shapes of his sleeping comrades, and pride swelled in his chest that he was trusted to help watch out for them. He tried to squash it down, but it squirmed back out and filled him again. Knights weren't supposed to be proud, but – wait. He turned toward the water, not certain of what had caught his attention. The lake had been eerily still the entire time they'd been there, and they had been warned not to drink from it, but he didn't know why.

There. There was a ripple, maybe ten feet further along his route, just off the shore. Keeping his focus wide, Galahad moved toward it, his hand falling to his sword. It was probably nothing, he though. But there were no trees nearby that could have dropped an acorn or something similar, and no wind. And the rest of the lake was still. It could be a fish, except that the ripples seemed to be forming an irregular shape.

Intrigued, he stepped as close to the water as he could without touching it and crouched down. The ripples undulated hypnotically, twisted and reformed, and suddenly, there was a face looking back at him. It wasn't like a reflection, but as if he were looking through a doorway. It was a beautiful woman with a wealth of dark hair and haunted green eyes. He jerked back in surprise.

"Galahad," she whispered, and it sounded like the breeze had a voice.

"Who are you?" he whispered back.

"I was once as human as you, but the sorcerer trapped me here forever with the Sidhe." There was such sadness in her voice that Galahad shivered.

"How can I free you?"

"You cannot, Galahad of the pure heart. I come but to give a warning, and I am only free to give it because my jailers drown themselves in revels. The king you love is in danger. Not everyone in this valley wishes him well."

Galahad was so enchanted by the sound of her other-worldly voice that he almost missed the meaning of her words. "What? How is he in danger?" He felt like a monster for questioning the beautiful visage, but he had to know. "And how do I know I can believe you? I don't even know what you are."

"I am a shade, a mere echo of who I once was. Bound by the laws of the Sidhe, I am incapable of lying." Her eyes glowed. "Heed my words, or do not. Either way, you will have to live with your decision. Dark magic can twist a body and damage it, making the one using it unable to bear even the light of the sun. And it can enchant the heart of even a king. Many dangers await him between here and Camelot. And remember this: the hell hounds came because of the sorcerer. There were two men here when they attacked, but they only injured one."

"I...have to keep patrolling." Galahad knew he would have to hurry to cover the next portion of the circuit or Percival would catch up to him. Besides, he had to think about what she'd said. The woman in the water smiled at him and he caught his breath at the beauty of it.

"Choose well, fair Galahad." Her face and voice disappeared.

Merlin stirred in his sleep, but did not wake.


	15. Revelations

AN: Hang on, friends. There are so many ideas bouncing around in my head, this story is going to get long!

Gingeraffealene, I'm still laughing at 'darn her hide'! lol

sandhopper, nice to 'see' you again. I'm so glad you enjoy it and take the time to comment!

More action coming soon, I promise, as the next chapter is almost finished.

CHAPTER 15: Revelations

Though Arthur woke when the light had barely started infiltrating the inky night sky and the sun had yet to peek over the horizon, Gaius was already awake. Everyone else was just a vague shape in the predawn fog that coiled up from the dewy ground, but Gaius hunched over a piece of parchment, squinting. Arthur took a long breath of crisp morning air, trying to dispel his dreams of a door closing, his parents', Lancelot's and Elyan's faces slowly disappearing.

"Gaius," whispered Arthur, "did you sleep at all?"

Gaius rubbed his eyes. "Some. Merlin was restless."

Arthur smiled fondly. "How is he?"

"I won't know until he wakes. More than anything, he needs quiet, dark and rest."

"We'll get him back to Camelot, Gaius. What are you writing?"

"I know you will, Arthur. By the way, you did a good job binding his arm." Gaius looked at the writing utensils he was holding. "I wrote out his...vision, or prophesy as best as I could remember. I feel it must be important."

"He spoke a different one earlier," admitted Arthur.

"Tell me everything you remember."

Arthur recounted the words as best he could. "Any idea what all of this means, Gaius?"

"I have a few ideas. The message you heard referred to you, of course, the once and future king. You certainly cheated death. May I see where you were stabbed?"

Arthur pulled up his shirt and Gaius leaned forward, his eyes tracing both new scars. "Incredible. I'd like to hear about how that went."

Arthur covered a shiver. "Soon. Let's talk more about these...visions, or whatever they are. Has Merlin had many before?"

"No, these are the first I've heard of. I wonder if his magic changed somehow when he used so much to heal you...in any case, let's look at the rest of this. 'Unite the seven' is what we've heard more than anything else, but I have no idea what it could mean. Do you?"

"No," Arthur mused. "Seven what? Two are lost, honor and redemption have passed over. Hmmm."

"Maybe it's not what, but who," guessed Gaius.

Something tickled Arthur's brain. "Passed over. That sounds like, well, like someone died. Like, someone honorable and someone who experienced redemption." His voice trailed off and his dreams came back to him. "Like Lancelot and Elyan."

Gaius stared at him. "You may be right, sire." His eyes darted back and forth in thought. "He called you what, noble courage? Arthur means noble."

"Someone else called me courage," Arthur recalled. "When I went to the land of the Fisher King, there was a small man at a bridge. He called me courage and said I'd need magic and strength to fulfill my quest. Then, later, Merlin and Gwaine came. Wait, Gwaine is strength?" He grumbled a little, but in all honesty, couldn't really argue with the assessment.

"That's three. I wonder who the other four might be," said Gaius. "Of course, we could be wrong about everything."

They mused about the rest of the words for a while, but came to no more conclusions. Deep in discussion, neither noticed that Galahad was also awake, poking morosely at the second, smaller fire.

Galahad had peered in the water again on his second trip past the lake, and he'd asked just one question. "Why me?"

The mysterious face had given him an enigmatic smile. "Anyone else here would fear me."

Galahad was familiar with the Sidhe. The village where he'd grown up was a superstitious one, and its denizens occupied their free time with stories about the magic that used to be rampant in the area. Magic was generally considered to be something to be avoided, a force for evil. Galahad had lived to hear the stories, and he thought about them now.

The Sidhe, he knew, were unable to lie. If the woman were indeed bound by their rules, she couldn't either, but she had appeared as human as a face in the water could. There was every chance she was deceiving him for some reason. The Sidhe detested basically all other creatures, and when they did pay attention to humans, it was to trick and trap. They considered human lives worthless. They certainly might well keep a woman trapped in a lake and undying.

It was also commonly accepted that anyone who used dark magic over time would begin to rot from the inside out, and that there would be changes in their appearance. Galahad pictured Merlin's ravaged left eye. Dark sorcerers inevitably became gnarled, twisted creatures who huddled in caves and stayed out of the sun. Like the Sidhe, they sought to draw in and ensnare mundane humans. The stories he'd heard always made him think of the trapdoor spiders that lived in sandy areas and hid underground, waiting to snag unsuspecting prey.

In addition, magical practitioners had familiars and magical creatures that they bent to their will and used to do their bidding. The hell hounds might be such.

In fact, every word the woman of the water had said meshed with what Galahad had heard throughout his childhood. And more than anything, he desired to protect and defend his king.

Yet, how could he trust a stranger on such an important topic? Perhaps she was not trapped at all, but was creating some magical illusion. caused by magic use? Merlin rarely left the king's side, and had done so for years. Why would he never act against Arthur until now, until after the great battle? He must have had many opportunities to cause the king harm. Galahad shook his head, trying to clear it.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "Don't look so worried, Galahad." It was Percival with a disarming grin. "You're surrounded by knights. We'll be fine. If someone were going to attack, they'd have done it over night. C'mon, help me figure out some breakfast."

Galahad really like the large knight. He'd found Percival friendly and approachable despite the man's imposing size. They had similar backgrounds and he thought they'd become true friends if Galahad became a knight. He also truly enjoyed the mischievous streak that Percival usually blamed on Gwaine. But for some reason, none of that mattered right now. Instead, Galahad felt a deep distrust well up at Percival's apparent nonchalance. Didn't he care about the king?

Galahad forced a smile on his face and stood up. "You're right. How can I help?" But as they began to perform their morning tasks, Galahad's open and trusting nature slowly darkened as unseen magic dug its claws into his psyche.


	16. The Windows to the Soul

_AN: I know, I know, poor sacrificial lamb Galahad. Morgana never gives up! I 3 reading your comments, sandhopper and Gingeraffealene.__More Arthur / Merlin bonding and mutual abuse in this chapter, yay!_

CHAPTER 16: _The Windows to the Soul_

The morning having sprung, Leon called in the last patrol. They were in an open enough area, and he had enough knights there, that he felt comfortable without scouts.

"What's up with your lad, then, Leon?" asked Sir Elwin teasingly, pointing at the young man who sat alone on the far side of the clearing.

"A bit of hero worship, I think," Leon admitted.

"Oh, don't feed the royal ego," grumbled Merlin, who hadn't woken until then. Everyone but Arthur laughed. Merlin made a pained sound, killing their amusement and Gaius was instantly by his side. "What is hurting, Merlin?"

"My head." He tried to open his eyes and hissed in pain, putting his left hand over his eyes. "The slightest bit of light makes it feel like someone is stabbing me. Even the light through my eyelids hurts."

"I was afraid of this. For the time being, Merlin, you'll have to tie a cover over your eyes. When we are back at Camelot, you'll need to spend a few days in a dark room, but it should improve over time."

Merlin swallowed, absorbing that. No magic, no sight, broken right hand. He pushed down the self pity that threatened to spill over. "Let me help you," said Gaius kindly. He helped Merlin sit up and carefully tied something over his eyes.

"I need...uh...to get up." Merlin knew he was blushing. It was beyond humiliating. But his friends were silent, nobody making fun of him. With Gaius' direction, he was able to do an awkward one-handed crab walk into the bushes to take care of business. He was grateful that Gaius was so matter of fact about things.

When he was back, Gaius suggested, "You should try and stand, to see how it goes." Wanting to get to his feet, to feel a little less helpless, Merlin held out his good hand for an assist. The hand the grasped his forearm did not belong to his housemate, however, but to the king.

"Okay, then?" asked Arthur. "Good. Put your hand on my shoulder and we'll take a walkabout. I'm sure Gaius wants me to see how my leg is."

Emotion welled briefly again as Merlin felt a wave of gratitude for Arthur's consideration. Mastering it, he quipped, "Just don't forget about me and trot off."

Arthur put Merlin's hand on his shoulder. There was a grin in his voice. "I'd smack you for being such an insolent servant, but then you'd fall over and Gaius would yell at me.

It took only a moment to adjust to walking that way, and fortunately, the ground was fairly flat. That, or Arthur was choosing their path carefully. Merlin could feel him walk with a limp, however.

"What's wrong with your leg?"

"A hell hound chewed on it for a while when I was saving your sorry self," admitted Arthur, slowing to gradually turn back. "Nothing too major, but enough to give me a few more manly scars." He had noticed the emotion on Merlin's face earlier and was determined to make his servant smile. After a few moments, he said, "There is fog over the lake, and the sun is beginning to rise at its edge, making the water appear red and gold. I wish you could see it."

Merlin thought of all that had happened at the lake. Killing Sofia and her father. Dragging Arthur from the water. Freya. Lancelot. Arthur. A fist squeezed his heart, and he was glad he couldn't see it, but he was grateful that Arthur described it.

Twenty feet away, Galahad ground his teeth. Like all evil things, Merlin was unable to bear the light. How could no one else see it? Instead, they laughed and joked with him, and paid no attention to the fact that he was within easy stabbing distance of the king. Merlin's hold over them must be powerful indeed. Galahad hoped the sorcerer's injuries were as severe as they seemed, or he could far too easily slip a knife into Arthur's back.

This could not continue. He knew that once they returned to Camelot, his options would be far more limited, so it had to happen on this trip. He must kill Merlin.

Unaware of the dark thoughts of the youngest member of their party, Arthur and Merlin returned to their spot near the larger fire. "Galahad's made breakfast," Arthur announced. "Let's see if he has any use as a cook." He helped Merlin sit back down, and everyone gathered to eat. As the ate, they all updated each other on the recent events.

Arthur told them everything that had happened as he knew it, not leaving out the dragon or anything about Merlin's magic. The only things he left out were the details of what he'd seen and experienced while being healed. Merlin contributed very little, but when Arthur finished, he asked, "Where did that crystal end up? I think it needs to be where nobody is going to touch it. In the lake, maybe."

There was a rustling sound, then Arthur said, "It's here. Percival, would you throw this in the lake?" Percival agreed and sent it hurtling far into the lake. Merlin sighed.

"I'm glad that's gone. Even though it's broken, it's not something I want to touch ever again. It's what started all of these visions."

After that, Percival and Leon filled in Arthur and Merlin on what else had happened. When they got to the part where Kilgarrah found Percival and Gwaine, Arthur complained, "Don't tell me Gwaine got to ride the dragon!"

"No, he didn't. And anyhow it turned to stone," explained Percival, and continued with the story. Gaius took over when they came to the part where the council was informed.

"The queen said that magic was something every king accepted up until Uther. She said that it may be like a sword. An evil man can use it to hurt and intimidate, but a good man can use it to help and protect. She said we must keep open minds until you, the king, returned to make a final decision."

Arthur's pride in his wife was evident in his voice. "I am fortunate to have such a wise queen. Magic is not what we thought, and I will not proceed with my father's prejudice."

Everyone jumped as Galahad dropped his cup to clatter onto his bowl, breaking the moment. He blushed bright red. "Um...sorry...I'll wash the dishes." He ran off, and a few of the knights chuckled.

"That was exactly like something Merlin would do," chuckled Arthur, and the incident was forgotten as they continued catching everyone up.

When breakfast was over, they broke camp and Merlin stood by himself, feeling useless. "Merlin?" said Percival quietly, trying not to startle him. "I have something for you."

Merlin held out his hand, and Percival held his wrist steady and pressed something into his palm. It was heavy and cylindrical. "I cut the leaves and twigs off a sturdy stick for you. You can drag it along the ground to check for obstacles and use it for balance until your eyes don't hurt any more."

A smile spread across Merlin's face. What a perfect idea, and a thoughtful gift. "Thank you, Percival! Now I don't have to depend on Arthur, which is a good thing, because I'm not sure I could even reach your shoulder." He tapped it against the ground experimentally, finding it heavier than he'd expected. "Do you suppose you'd get in trouble if I accidentally on purpose smacked a prat with it?"

Arthur gave an exaggerated growl from right over Merlin's shoulder.

In a theatrically loud whisper, Merlin asked, "Percival? Do you think Arthur heard me?"

Everyone burst out laughing, even Arthur. Well, everyone except for one.


	17. Outrageous Fortune

_AN: I'm loving the comments always!! _

_Welcome Fudgequeen72! And the guests who commented too. :-)_

_mersan123, an irl friend of mine literally called me and said, "what have you done to my Merlin?!" lol Sorry / not sorry!_

_Please stick with me through another OC. I promise it will all come together soon. And...more Gwaine!_

CHAPTER 17: Outrageous Fortune

Lionel scratched the back of his neck and watched a fly climb up the wall. Like everything else since he'd arrived in Camelot, this was not what he'd expected. The seventh son of a family that was noble in name, but not fortune, when he'd topped six feet by age 15, he'd been too expensive to feed. His father had written a request to King Arthur to consider Lionel to be a knight's squire. Then he paid a passing merchant caravan to let LIonel tag along and sent him off to Camelot with a lot of hugs and as much food as he could carry.

He'd had the misfortune to arrive just before a war, however. He'd submitted his letter, but had been told it would probably be a while before the king had a chance to review it. Then, the king had left with the army, and he hadn't been back.

An undercook had felt sorry for him and offered him food and a corner to sleep in in exchange for him spending his days working in the kitchen. The hope he'd felt when the spires of the great city had come into view was sinking by the day. He didn't mind the work so much, but he didn't see an end to it. It seemed the noble name didn't mean anything after all.

Then, today, there had been an argument in the corridor outside the kitchen as he'd been coming in with a load of potatoes. "Somebody has to do it!" a maid was complaining. "I can't leave her majesty, but the girl who's supposed to come is sick."

"I don't have anyone to spare," hissed Cook in response, trademark scowl in place. Lionel has ducked instinctively, having long since learned of her temper, but he was too big to escape notice. "Wait, he can do it." She stabbed a thick finger toward him. "I don't know what he does around here anyway!"

The maid had looked relieved. "Follow me, then," she instructed, so he'd dropped off the potatoes and followed obediently. He had never in a million years expected to end up in the physician's chambers tasked with keeping an eye on a sleeping knight. "Do not leave him," had been the sum total of his instructions.

On one hand, it was the closest he'd actually been to a knight. On the other hand, he'd never been so bored in his entire life. The knight brushed his nose with a hand as if the fly Lionel had been watching had landed on it. It was the first thing he'd done other than snore. Lionel sighed. It was the most excitement he'd had in hours.

Inside Gwaine's head, that annoying voice was calling his name again, drawing it out with a teasing drawl. "Oh Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaine."

"Bug off," he responded, his intent to ignore the dragon losing out to his temper.

"You must wake now, dragon lord."

"I said shut it, lizard breath."

"This is extremely important!"

"Yes, it's all important. Haven't I listened to you enough? If I'm going to sleep, I want to dream about a beautiful woman, not you."

"GWAINE! You must wake up now." Kilgarrah was sounding angry, but Gwaine couldn't find it in himself to care.

His own voice was dry as a bone. "I. Can't. Remember? Your dear physician drugged me."

Now he could hear frustration. He supposed if the dragon were there physically, it would have been intimidating. "You can, if you so choose. You must will it so. You must wake up now."

Gwaine sent the sound of a yawn. "Nope. Tired. They left me behind, I'm staying behind. I'm not waking up until I'm ready for a pint."

Kilgarrah didn't bother to say anything else. Instead, he ROARED.

With an "Aaaaaah!" Gwaine burst off the cot, sending Lionel flying backward and his stool bouncing in the opposite direction. Gwaine himself landed with one foot on the floor and the other stuck in the bed clothes, causing him to pitch forward and fall over a bench. Ears still ringing, he jumped back to his feet – or he tried to. Only instead, he smashed his head into the underside of the table he'd rolled under. Various glass implements of unknown purpose slid down the tilted top and smashed to the ground.

Cursing like a sailor and calling the dragon names he bet Kilgarrah had never heard in his 'more than 1,000 years of living', Gwaine grabbed the top of his head with one hand and scowled. He came up on his other hand and knees. He found himself practically nose-to-nose with a young man he didn't know. The boy's blonde hair stuck up in tufts, and his eyes were wide. "Uh...you're awake."

"Yeah, good observation. I gotta go." He crawled out from under the table and shoved his feet in his boots. Luckily, he had a lot of experience with dealing with an aching head.

"Um, wait, sir...what was it? I'm supposed to stay with you until someone comes to relieve me." Nobody had told him what to do if the knight woke up. Gwaine looked around and located his sword and bag.

"Well, then I hope you can ride. I'm leaving. Tell Gaius I'm not staying for tea next time." Gwaine strode toward the door, strapping on his sword as he went. The boy trotted doggedly at his side. "And it's Gwaine."

"Lionel."

"Nice to meet you. Good-bye."

"No, no," Lionel was near panic. He finally had a job to do that didn't involve produce. He wasn't about to lose one of King Arthur's knights. "If you're leaving, I have to come with you."

They had reached the stables. "Saddle my horse," Gwaine called to the closest stable boy.

"Two horses!"

"Lionel, you are very persistent," grumbled Gwaine. "I hate persistent."

"Sorry, sir. If you leave, I have to leave."

The knight sighed with his whole body. "It may be dangerous."

"Yes, sir."

"Exhausting."

"Yes, sir."

"But incredibly boring."

"Not more boring than watching you sleep."

"That's creepy, Lionel."

"Yes, sir."

Taking his horse's lead from a stable boy, Gwaine turned and waved a finger under Lionel's nose. "Lionel, you are the second most annoying...creature...I've ever met. And trust me, I know annoying."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have to do the job I was given, and that means keeping an eye on you." Lionel was highly relieved when he was handed a lead as well.

Gwaine mounted the horse and shook his head. "Fine. Fine. Follow then, Lionel. But I'm not going to feel sorry for you if you get eaten."


	18. Sound and Fury

_AN: Thank you to the commenter who complimented my fight scenes. :-) I "see" the scenes in my mind and sometimes worry that I put too much detail into them.__Mersan123, you are a sweetie! No worries...Lionel is safe! Probably.__Sandhopper, I *heart* protective Arthur and knights. And yes, Lionel has no idea what he's in for. But hey, if he can survive Gwaine, he can handle almost anything.__For everyone, please enjoy this newest chapter, and thanks for staying with me for what is turning out to be a much longer story than I ever intended. I'm having so darn much fun writing it!_

CHAPTER 18: _Sound and Fury_

Bits of grass and earth flew into the air as Galahad suddenly spurred his horse to a run. The knights startled, but, being professionals, all turned to see what threat was behind him. After all, he was trusted. As they looked, Galahad snatched the crossbow from the front of Leon's saddle. Turning the horse smoothly using just his knees, Galahad lifted the weapon to his shoulder. It was already loaded, since Leon believed in always being prepared. Sighting as he'd been taught, Galahad aimed for Merlin's chest and released the bolt before anyone else could react.

The _thunk _it made striking Merlin was louder than he'd thought, and he relished couldn't help but notice the look of utter surprise on the sorcerer's face as he slid from his horse...

No, that would never work. Galahad scowled as he saddled his horse. First of all, Leon had a grip like iron. There was no way he'd just let the crossbow go even if he were surprised. And though Merlin's death should release the spell, the knights' training might kick in and they would kill him before they realized why Galahad did what he did. And he wouldn't get more than one shot at it.

"Excuse me, Galahad, could you collect a few of those small yellow flowers that grow right at the water's edge for me, please? It's a bit difficult for me to bend that far," Gaius interrupted his thoughts.

"Of course," Galahad agreed readily. "Do you need the entire plant or just the flowers?"

"Just the flowers, thank you. Be certain not to touch the water."

Galahad gathered them, an idea forming in his mind. When he had finished, he helped Gaius pack up all of his medical supplies, and the physician was so pleased with the help that he didn't notice that one vial was missing.

Merlin stood next to the horse that had been Morgana's. It had been decided that the black mare had the calmest temperament. Unable to see or use his dominant hand, Merlin nonetheless had to ride back to Camelot, and it was essential that he not fall or even be jostled too much, or he could hurt his head more. He took a breath and rested his left hand on the horse's side. From behind him, Leon spoke.

"Go ahead and climb on, Merlin. I'm right here in case you have trouble."

Thus bolstered, Merlin pulled himself onto the horse with some difficulty. A sudden memory of literally climbing a pile of knights to get onto a horse when he was in his old form made him smile. There was something about the aging potion that made him both snarkier and more confident. In that guise, he somehow felt like he actually had the years of experience that he would have had at age 80. He was himself, but he did things that never would normally have occurred to him. Coming out of the memory, he realized that he was sitting comfortably. He'd have to be careful, but he knew he could do this. "Thanks, Leon. I'm good."

They had put him on the horse that had been Morgana's, and attached a rope between it and Gaius' horse to help ensure that it could not run. If someone saw fit to attack their party, Merlin was to pull up and get off his horse. This would put him between his horse and Gaius', and the physician would lead him to safety or at least keep an eye out on his behalf. "Just get off the horse and keep your head down," Arthur had instructed.

"Just get off the horse and keep your head down," Merlin had repeated in a snotty voice.

"I'm keeping track of the head slaps you deserve," was all Arthur had said.

For all of their precautions, it was a fairly uneventful ride. They startled a band of 7 Saxons, but Leon and Arthur each killed one without dismounting and the others fled. "Let them go," the king ordered.

"There are hell hounds all around us," reported Elwyn, breaking off the pursuit. "They're not doing anything but..."

_They are following the sorcerer, _thought Galahad, feeling the outline of the vial in his satchel.

"Next time, get off your horse like you're supposed to, Merlin," ordered Arthur as they began to ride again. "Let's keep moving."

Merlin didn't bother to argue. He knew the slow pace was because of him, and he knew Arthur wasn't really annoyed with him, just worried. But he also felt very disoriented by the horse's motion since he couldn't see, and it felt like he could tumble off at any moment. Worse, he was feeling nauseated as they went on, and it was getting worse. He'd asked Gaius if he thought his magic would heal him.

"I think it is," he'd responded reassuringly. "I believe that you are healing faster than someone else would, but it will still take time."

Time passed in kind of a blur for Merlin. The vague feeling of danger nagged at him, but his physical troubles pushed the fear aside. He didn't participate in the conversations around him, he mostly focused on staying upright and keeping his breakfast inside his stomach. He startled as a hand grasped his upper arm. "Whoa, careful," said Percival, who was the one who had steadied him.

"I think we should take a a short break," said Arthur. "Let's get something to eat."

Merlin wanted to protest, but he didn't. His head and stomach were rebelling and even though they had to get back to Camelot, all he really wanted was to sit still, not on a horse. He managed to climb down on his own but stumbled back a bit and fortunately came up against Gaius' horse, which helped him regain his balance.

He tried not to begrudge Gaius' arm leading him or his gentle, "careful, please Merlin." But he was grateful when he was seated on a bedroll leaning against a tree.

He heard Galahad ask, "Can we stop long enough for a fire? I have leftover stew I can heat up."

Merlin only stayed awake long enough to swallow two of Gaius' concoctions, hear Arthur agree to stop long enough for a hot lunch, and tell Gaius he didn't want to eat anything. Then he let himself drift in a state of half-sleep that he knew instinctively would help him heal. He didn't focus on any of the sounds around him, but just let it all wash over him. At least he did until he noticed that there wasn't any talking any more.

The extra sense that had warned Merlin of danger since he was a toddler screamed to life. He froze and listened as hard as he could and dared to use the tiniest sliver of magic to "feel" where someone moved toward him. It caused a hint of an ache in his already sore head. Slowly, he pulled his heels toward his butt and put his good hand against the tree. Then he inched himself carefully to standing. He could hardly feel more helpless, blind and injured and barely able to perform any magic. He wasn't going to face this threat sitting down.

"Galahad?" he guessed, trying to keep his nerves out of his voice. Every other person who had come with them was someone he'd known and trusted for years. "What did you do to the others?"

"They're just sleeping." Galahad was in front of him and slightly to his right. He sounded very, very young. "It won't last very long. You should have eaten the stew."

"So you could murder me while I slept?"

"I...I have to protect the king." His voice was almost pleading.

"Arthur is my closest friend. I have devoted my life to protecting him." Merlin couldn't help but jump. He straightened his spine, wishing he had his walking stick. He could hear the single-mindedness in Galahad's voice and knew there would be no changing his mind, but he had to try. Ignoring the pain it caused, he let out a little magic and sensed that an enchantment had been laid on him. Given time, and not injured, he could unravel it, but that wasn't an option now.

"You are lying! Magic is evil." Galahad's voice was closer now. Merlin pushed the blindfold up and squinted at the boy, eyes watering. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. The page was only a handful of steps away. His face was screwed up with emotion, but the sword he held in front of him was steady.

"Have you ever killed anyone? Can you look me in the face and kill me?"

"I have to. I have to kill you." He raised the sword and Merlin tensed. But Galahad froze instead of striking, and a wonderful, familiar voice spoke from behind him.

"I can't let you do that, lad."

"Gwaine!?"

The knight stepped to the side, so Merlin could just make him out. "Good to see you, Merlin. You look terrible, by the way." He waved behind him. "That's Lionel. He followed me."

Galahad recovered from his surprise and swung to attack Gwaine. Almost without thought, the latter did his special disarming move, and Galahad's sword flew from his hand.

"No, don't kill him!" called Merlin, as Gwaine started to slash at the younger man. With impressive dexterity, he rotated his hand and struck his opponent on the temple with the hilt of his sword. With a gusty sigh, Merlin pulled down the blindfold and allowed himself to slide down the tree.

"Whoa, whoa," Gwaine jumped over the downed man and helped Merlin. "Seriously, what _have _you done to yourself? And why are all of this lot sleeping?"

"Galahad drugged them so he could kill me. He's got some sort of spell on him. Thank you for saving me, and for not killing him."

"Yeah, well, thanks for sending the world's most obnoxious dragon to save my life."

"_Dragon?" The young man who'd showed up with G_waine stared, open mouthed.

"Yes, dragon. Keep up, Lionel. Oh, Merlin, Lionel. Lionel, Merlin. So, the dragon died but he talks in my head now. He told me that you were in trouble and where to find you. And we need to have words about you being a sorcerer and not telling me."

"Sorcerer?"

"Yes, Lionel. Merlin is a sorcerer who works for the king. Seriously, do you know anything at all? So, is it true Arthur was mortally wounded but you used your magic to save him and almost killed yourself? Or was that overblown lizard wrong about that?"

Merlin laughed. What else could he do? "Yes, it's true. And there's so much more. But we don't have time now. We have to wake these guys up and keep moving. There are hell hounds and Saxons and who knows what else all around."

"Hmmmm," Gwaine didn't seem to concerned. "Those fiery dogs are hell hounds? I noticed a group of them pacing us most of the way here."

"What?" Lionel's voice was a bit faint as he absorbed that news, but Gwaine ignored him.

"Lionel, tie up the one that tried to kill Merlin and help me throw water on these idiots to wake them. I get to do Arthur. You do Percival, though."

Galahad had told the truth, at least, and they were quite easy to rouse with a combination of water on their faces and taunting from Gwaine. Poor Lionel was horrified that they were treating the vaunted knights this way. Without thinking, he offered a hand up to the man closest to him, and was just absorbing the fact that he was facing his king when he saw a man with a crossbow aiming at Arthur's back.

Acting on instinct, Lionel shoved Arthur right back to the ground and the shot grazed his upper arm. Arthur assessed the situation with impressive speed. "Saxons!" he called. "Grab the horses. We have to get out of here."

"We have to take Galahad," said Merlin, struggling to his knees. "He only did what he did because he was spelled." Gwaine pulled Merlin to his feet, and the sorcerer froze for a moment, his hand hovering above Gwaine's chest. "Kilgarrah?" he whispered.

"Later," said Gwaine, as Arthur ordered,

"Percival, get Galahad on a horse. Gwaine, help Merlin." He continued his direction even as they were retreating from the more and more men appearing through the trees.

"I know where to go," called Gwaine, and Arthur had him take the lead without question. In very short order, Gaius, Arthur, Lionel, and Gwaine were on horses, with Galahad draped in front of Arthur, hands bound, and Merlin rode behind Gwaine. Merlin knew it had to grate on Arthur to have Elwyn, Percival, and Leon cover their rear without him, but everyone who was wounded (or old, in Gaius' case) had to ride for greatest speed, and Gwaine had to lead them.

They were fortunate, because the attack was swift and they were outnumbered, but the Saxons faded back quickly in the face of the fearless knights. The denizens of Camelot were able to make their escape.

"I hope you have a defensible place in mind, Gwaine," called Leon. "They outnumber us at least 4 to 1, and we have quite a few wounded."

"I'm worth at least 10 of them," called back Gwaine with his typical teasing bravado. "And we can leave Lionel behind to slow them down. He's pretty expendable."

"That seems like an ill way to repay the man who saved my life," called Arthur.

"But he's really annoying," stated Gwaine.

Lionel found himself bemused that they engaged in such banter while literally fleeing for their lives, but he did smirk when Pericval answered, "If we were going to leave behind anyone who's annoying, you'd be first on the list."

"Wait," said Leon. "We _did _leave him behind. He came anyway."

"And you're welcome for the save."

A crossbow bolt whistled through the trees, and they fell silent as Leon returned the shot.

"Alright, everyone who's not on horses, mount up now," yelled Arthur. "We have to move faster. I'm sorry, Merlin."

"'Sokay," sighed Merlin, trying to hold onto Gwaine with his one good hand without jolting his broken arm. His head swam, but he knew they had no choice. I_ hope this safe place is close,_ he thought morosely, listening to what sounded like 50 men crashing through the woods in pursuit. _Or we'll never make it._

Suddenly, his magic screamed at him. "There's a barrier of some sort up ahead!" he called out. "We're trapped!"


	19. Unlikely Allies

_AN: So sorry for being so mean to start the last chapter! My irl friend who betas for me yelled at me!_

_Thank you, gaylelbf and Taz. Grazi for your comments._

_sandhopper and Gingeraffealene, you two are so faithful with your support. I'm so grateful, and I'm thrilled to make you laugh._

_This chapter is very long because there were so many housekeeping things to cover, and a lot of characters to get on the same page. Bear with me here. Swords and action and all that good stuff to come soon._

CHAPTER 19: _Unlikely Allies_

"_Emrys,_" multiple voices echoed through Merlin's brain. "_The barrier is ours. Speak this Word and you and yours can pass through, but your enemies cannot. We will hold it as long as we can."_ The voices – druids, of course – said a word that echoed in Merlin's brain. He recognized one of the voices as Iseldir.

"Gwaine, call out to everyone to ride straight through the barrier, and that the druids are helping us." Merlin said. "And...don't let me fall off the horse, alright?"

"What – " Gwaine started to ask, but Merlin spoke the Word of power and lost the rest of what his friend said. There was a feeling of movement, but fortunately it hardly hurt. And though Merlin himself couldn't see it, everyone else watched the air seem to shimmer in front of them. Gwaine yelled what Merlin had told him and plunged through it without hesitation.

When the last member of their party had passed through, Merlin could feel the barrier close again. He missed the awesome sight of half a hundred attacking Saxons crashing into literally nothing.

The fear and mistrust the party would normally have felt being faced by eight druids in their long, brown cloaks were muted by the fact that their pursuers had been halted so dramatically, not to mention the distraction of the giant stone dragon that dominated the clearing.

Arthur dismounted first and held out his hand to Iseldir. "Though the last time we met, I acted dishonorably, still you have helped us. I am in your debt. And when our needs are less immediate, I would like to discuss making reparations to your people." He inclined his head respectfully.

After a long moment of studying Arthur, Iseldir inclined his head back and clasped the king's forearm. "I am Iseldir. We helped because we are loyal to Emrys, and always aid dragon lords when we can." He nodded to Gwaine, who had just helped Merlin down. "But a humble king. What a rarity!"

"I must be humble when I and my father before me have made such grave mistakes. My actions to secure the Cup of Life have haunted me for a long time."

Iseldir stared in Arthur's eyes long enough that the moment grew uncomfortable. Then he smiled. "Emrys has told us for years that you are worthy of our respect and allegiance. This is the first moment I have truly believed that." His eyes flicked over the battered party. "My compatriots can hold the barrier through the night. It seems there is more I can do to help, if your physician does not mind. I even have some suggestions for Emrys' magical pain, and perhaps remove an enchantment." He gave a significant look at Galahad, who was standing, tied and bewildered, with Percival holding his arm.

"Merlin trusts you," responded Gaius. "That means so do I. I would be grateful for any help."

As Iseldir turned, Arthur spoke once more. "Iseldir, you should know that I have revoked the ban on magic yesterday. I have not been back to Camelot to make it official with the council yet, but as far as I am concerned, you are not our enemies. I'd like to become allies. And you are welcome to build a village without our borders, and I will extend my protection."

Iseldir bowed, something druids rarely did, and began to speak to Gaius about who needed help the most.

As the rest of his party dismounted and inspected their surroundings, Arthur evaluated their situation. The Saxons had backed off but not left, and he had no illusions that they would attack as soon as the barrier came down. They were nearly within sight of Camelot's walls, and their enemies had to know that they wouldn't get a better chance to kill Arthur.

He had three fully equipped and healthy knights, and Gwaine who was healthy and armed, but not wearing any armor. His own injury would hinder his speed and maneuverability, though if he could fight from horseback he wouldn't have those limitations. They could not trust Galahad, and he had no idea if Lionel could fight. The boy's injury was fortunately minor, and he did carry a sword, so he might be an asset. Gaius and Merlin would need to be protected, and the druids didn't seem to carry any weapons at all. Arthur was not sure if they would be of any help in a fight.

The Saxons, on the other hand, were fairly well equipped, and they had added to their number significantly during the pursuit. They were probably as weary as their quarry, but their sheer numbers were the biggest problem. There was a chance that a patrol would come past before the barrier came down, but the king knew he could assume nothing. With a mental sigh, he began to think through possible strategies. There was one thing he needed to do, however.

Lionel was attempting to inspect the slice on his upper arm, when a voice said, "Hold still. Let me." He nearly swallowed his tongue when he realized that it was the king. Arthur wrapped a long piece of fabric twice around the injury and tied it tightly. "There. That should stop the bleeding until Gaius can take a look at it."

"Thank you, uh, your majesty," he stuttered.

"Arthur." Arthur smile a little sadly, remembering having this conversation with Galahad. "Out here, call me Arthur. I owe you a thank you for saving my life."

"Um, I just reacted, um Arthur." He winced a little. "Sorry for pushing you down."

Arthur chuckled. Had he ever been that young? "What's your story, Lionel? Are you from Camelot?"

"No, sire. I'm the seventh son of a minor nobleman, Lord Fitzroy of Sennsea. He sent me to Camelot with a letter to you asking if I could become a squire. But you were at war, so I've been working in the palace kitchens."

"I'm sorry that I was not there. Consider yourself accepted. I'll see which knight would like to take you on." He smiled wider at the look on the boy's face. "Don't thank me yet. It's hard work. I'm curious about one thing, though. How did you end up here, now?"

Lionel quickly related the story of how he'd ended up watching over Gwaine and had followed him, refusing to lose a knight. Arthur couldn't help but laugh again. "I appreciate your resolve, Lionel. I think you'll do well." He clapped the boy on his good shoulder and walked over to Leon to start talking about a game plan for the inevitable attack.

Merlin was already so sick of drinking draughts he found himself with a new sympathy for those who suffered from long-term illnesses. Iseldir had complimented Gaius' treatments to help Merlin's eye and the bleeding that must have taken place inside his brain. He suggested a few options to make it a bit stronger, but otherwise no changes. However, he had a potion to help with what he termed "magic burnout." He said it must be taken regularly until using magic no longer caused any pain, then for two days longer. He said magic was like a muscle, and that overuse while Merlin was still burned out could cause greater damage. This had fascinated Merlin's friend, and now he and Gaius were in an animated discussion about the whole process, as both were intellectuals who enjoyed learning. They were chatting away, ignoring the fact that their patient was nearly choking to death on the putrid concoction they'd forced on him.

Someone plopped down next to him. "That looks delicious," said Arthur's smooth tenor.

"You should try some, then. It tastes better than rat." Merlin took another sip and gagged. "Nope, I was wrong. This is much worse than rat."

"Think I'll pass then." There was a comfortable pause. Then, "do you know we're leaning against your dragon friend?"

"Yes, Kilgarrah. I can still feel him here, a little bit. It's like an echo. I guess when you live over a thousand years, it takes a bit for you to fade away."

He heard Arthur shift and imagined him looking up at the stove figure behind them. "Gwaine can hear him speak, which I don't pretend to understand. I would think him mad – madder than usual – except the voice lead him to us just in time to save you." Arthur's eyes shifted to the dragon's snout, where Gwaine was standing with his hand resting on the side of the dragon's head, almost as if they were speaking now.

"He is a lost dragon lord. It was thought I was the last, but I am glad I am not." Merlin fiddled with his blindfold and frowned. His pain was greatly improved, but he was ready to see again. Iseldir had told him that his temporary blindness probably increased the frequency of the visions he'd been getting. _Seers sometimes cover their eyes voluntarily, he'd said. It makes them more receptive to seeing with their third eye. Your visions may stop once your physical vision is restored._ Merlin certainly hoped so. The druid couldn't tell him how much magic he'd have when everything was healed, but he had laughed when Merlin had asked if his magic would be weak. _Never, Emrys. You _are _magic. Now your magic feels like an ocean instead of an endless chasm. It is still vastly beyond anyone else I've seen. As long as your pathways can heal, you will be a powerful sorcerer. If they do not heal, however, all of that power will simply be trapped inside of you. You must be careful._

"Leon and I talked to Galahad." Arthur's words interrupted Merlin's thoughts. His voice held a deep sadness. "He claims a beautiful, dark-haired woman appeared to him in the Lake of Avalon while he was on patrol. She spoke to him, and made him believe that you were going to kill me. He says he became completely convinced that killing you was the only way to save me. He hasn't tried to escape. He won't even eat. He apologized to both me and Leon, and has asked only that he be able to apologize to you, too. He believes I'm going to execute him."

_It's what Uther would have done, _thought Merlin. But what he said was, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Do you believe Morgana is somehow alive and enchanted him? If so, we can't hold him responsible for his actions, but how will we know if he's free of it? How can we ever trust him?"

"Even now his own will is fighting the enchantment," Iseldir butt into their conversation without embarrassment. "He will shortly break free of it on his own, out of sheer desire. I have not come into contact with many souls more pure than his."

Merlin felt the first big, true smile of the day spread across his face. "That's wonderful news!" He snaked out a bit of magic and found where Galahad was sitting. Acting by feel, he "tasted" the enchantment on the boy. It felt weak and thin. He frowned in concentration as his head began to ache...and Arthur shook his good arm, distracting him into dropping the magic.

"Stop! You're doing magic and hurting yourself, aren't you, you moron?"

"I wanted to check on Galahad. The enchantment I sense is getting weak."

Arthur shook him again, though gently. "Well stop! You are not supposed to do magic now." Iseldir excused himself, but neither Arthur nor Merlin paid much attention.

"It is the only thing I can do to help anyone! Especially now!" Merlin unwisely tried to wave his broken arm to make his point. "I'm nothing without magic, even more now, injured and blind."

"Merlin, listen to me. You once said my life was worth a hundred of yours, but you were wrong. Magic or no magic, servant or king or Master Sorcerer, your life has just as much value as _anyone_ else's. Don't forget it, and don't you dare try again to sacrifice it." Arthur never raised his voice, but he spoke with intense emotion.

Merlin was silent for a few moments. He thought about the Arthur he'd met so long ago, and the Arthur that sat next to him now. He wouldn't hesitate to give his life for this man, and he would never promise otherwise, but he was so very proud of how much his friend had grown. "Thank you, Arthur. I will be smarter with my magic."

Arthur's sigh was loud and frustrated. "That's all I can hope for, I suppose. You really never do listen." His shoulders made a sliding sound against the stone and he stood up. "I'm afraid I have to go do kingly things now, but you go ahead and relax here. I think Gaius has another treat for you to drink."

"Traitorous prat."

Gaius actually didn't bring another draught, but instead, the copies of the two visions he'd recorded. He and Merlin talked through them several times. They didn't make much progress, except to address what it meant that without Gaius "there would be neither side of the coin."

"I imagine it's because I hid Balinor and got him safely out of Camelot," mused the physician.

"And sent him to Ealdor. If you hadn't done that, there wouldn't be a Merlin."

"I suppose not. As for Arthur, I'm not entirely sure."

"Nimue said you are the one who came to her for help when Ygraine didn't have any children," Merlin reasoned.

"Yes, she was my friend at that time, or at least I believed she was. She originally told Uther she could not help, and he asked me to get her to reconsider. I am the one who convinced her to intervene, a decision I have both regretted and been grateful for many times since then."

"Because without it no Arthur. But also no war on magic."

"Actions often have far-reaching consequences we can never see ahead of time." Merlin could only nod. Wasn't that the truth?

It wasn't much later that Arthur gathered everyone except the druids who were still holding up the barrier. The motley crew stood around him: Elwyn, Percival, and Gwaine flanked Arthur. Leon and Galahad, whose hands were bound, stood in front of them. Merlin, Gaius, Lionel, and Iseldir ranged behind them. Arthur's entire posture and demeanor change; the stained armor, torn cape, and bloody pant leg seemed to disappear, and everyone in the clearing knew they were looking at the king. "Friends and allies," he called. "We will all face battle shortly, against overwhelming odds. We are weary and injured. Yet, I am confident of victory, because of who stand at my side. We will not fall today, on the knees of Camelot. Our enemies will expect us to wait until the night is over to attack, but instead, in three hours time, we will drop the barrier and attack. But before that, I must attend a few important matters. Galahad, come forward."

Leon lead the boy to stand directly in front of Arthur. Leon's face looked like it was carved from stone, and Galahad couldn't even make himself look up. "Galahad, you drugged your king and my knights, and would have killed Merlin, who has been my helper and defender for years if you had not been stopped." Gwaine cleared his throat meaningfully, but everyone ignored him. "Yet, you believed you were acting to protect your king. You had been ensorcelled by Morgana, Camelot's enemy and sorceress of great power. Both the druids and Merlin, the strongest sorcerer known, believe that you have broken the enchantment because of the force of your will and the goodness of your heart. These are qualities I desire in those around me. However, we cannot let your actions go unpunished." He drew his dagger, and those gathered held their collective breath. "Look at me," said Arthur, quieter. Galahad looked up, eyes resigned. Those eyes widened in surprise when Arthur cut his hands loose. "Galahad, if you swear on one knee that you will never again attempt to injure the House of Pendragon or any of its allies, you will go free. You will be Merlin's servant and assistant in anything he asks until such time as he decides you are ready to become a squire again. And maybe, if Leon is correct about you, you may one day be a knight."

Tears in his eyes, Galahad knelt before his king and swore to protect not only Camelot, but also all friends and allies of the Pendragons, and it was impossible to doubt the sincerity in his voice. Merlin couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I told you he'd be a great king," he whispered to Gaius, who pressed his arm.

Then Arthur surprised everyone there. He called Iseldir forward and thanked him for the aid, despite how the druids had been treated. He pledged to build them a permanent village, with a school for their children, if they wanted, and offered Camelot's protection.

Iseldir smiled. "You have surprised me, Arthur Pendragon, which is something that does not happen often. So now I will do something surprising. You may have heard that druids acknowledge no king and bend the knee to no one, and that has always been true. But today, on behalf of the druid people, I will swear loyalty to you." Gaius and a few of the other druids gasped out loud, and Leon's mouth literally fell open as Iseldir knelt in the shadow of the dragon and swore fealty to Arthur. He refused to swear it to the line of Pendragon or to Camelot – sons could be very different from their fathers, he said – but he swore they would use their magic only for good and for the benefit of both Arthur and Emrys.

As he spoke the final word, Merlin's whole body stiffened. In that eerie, old man voice he bellowed, "The du Bois curse is broken!"

When everyone calmed down from _that_, Iseldir explained that Arthur's mother had actually come from a family that was friends to the druids. A powerful, old druid leader had forbade her from marrying Uther and, when she had defied him, had cursed the Pendragon and du Bois lines to be at war with each other and with themselves. There was awe in Iseldir's voice when he realized that what he and Arthur had done had broken that curse.

Despite the excitement, there were still many things to do and an enemy to be faced, and everyone settled down to get a few hours' rest and make the Saxons think they were settling for the night. Great deeds done or not, there was a battle to be fought. As Arthur and the knights planned, Merlin came up with a plan of his own.


	20. Once More into the Breach

AN: To the person who said the story is amazing, THANK YOU! What a lovely comment to see when I open the fanfiction app!

Gingeraffealene, you are so right about Merlin. I'm glad all my additions don't drive you nuts. I hope you enjoy the update(s) when you're back in the land of technology.

Please enjoy, everyone!

CHAPTER 20: Once More into the Breach

As weary as he was, Gaius refused to sleep. Instead, he worked with Iseldir to wrap certain compounds in leaves and place them in small vials along with another mixture. When they were thrown hard enough to break the vials and the compounds mixed, they caused an impressive but harmless flash of light. The two also ground a powder and stored it in little pouches. When these were thrown into a fire, they would explode with an extremely loud bang. They were all about distraction and disorientation. As Arthur had said repeatedly, they had to neutralize the enemy's overwhelming numbers. They needed surprise, strategy, and every other advantage they could find to have any hope of winning.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Gaius was enjoying working with Iseldir. Both men shared a thirst for knowledge and the experience to enjoy learning even on the eve of battle. And Iseldir was generous in both compliments and his own information. They might not be fighting on the front lines, but they would still contribute. "Gaius," Iseldir asked, "would you consider taking on an apprentice? I have a druid who is gifted in the healing arts but has always wanted to live in Camelot."

"Of course! My current assistant has a lot of other duties, and healing isn't really his calling anyway."

Iseldir quietly waved over one of the identically-robed druids. It turned out to be a young girl with fierce gray eyes and a riot of dark blonde curls. Gaius was surprised, but not dismayed. After all, the strongest healer he'd ever known was his friend Alice. "This is Enid."

"Enid, I'll be happy to train you and have your help," said Gaius, silently adding, as long as we survive the night.

All too soon, three hours had passed and it was time. Everyone snuck into position. Merlin and Gaius and two of the druids, who were elderly, would be staying behind Kilgarrah's left shoulder, as far from the fighting as possible. Everyone else, even the other druids, was ready to fight. As the last people moved into place out of his sight, Merlin took off his blindfold and leaned his stick against the dragon. As he'd tested earlier, it was dark enough that having his eyes open didn't hurt at all, and he had to see for this next part. He slipped around the stone shoulder and tiptoed to the spot where Kilgarrah's nose was tucked behind his tail. He thought an apology to his friend, but he needed to be higher. Scrambling over the tail one-handed, Merlin used the crevices and bumps on Kilgarrah's face to climb to the top of his head. As he crawled up the neck, he heard the signal to start fighting.

Below, the druids dropped the barrier and Leon and Percival each shot one of the sentries that were facing Arthur's camp. Unseen, the druids scampered into the camp, then all at once threw down potion vials so the night was lit by explosions. As the Saxons, many of them temporarily blinded, tried to figure out what was happening, Arthur struck, Leon on his left, Percival on his right, and Elwyn at his back to guard his flanks, since he was slowed by his injury. The druids, extra hard to see in their dark cloaks, stayed low and used sneak attacks and daggers to cut down soldiers as Gwaine flitted around, fluidly taking out enemies before they knew what was happening.

Able to hear but not see the fighting, Merlin climbed faster. He knew the Saxon's disorientation wouldn't last forever, and even halved, they would easily outnumber their party. He slipped once and jarred his broken arm, costing him precious seconds. Grunting in pain, he struggled back up. His timing had to be perfect.

Below him, Lionel was in trouble. He'd been driven back against Kilgarrah's side by a superior swordsman. Lionel had admitted on questioning that his swordwork was mediocre at best. My father had more sons than swords, he'd said. We had to take turns practicing. Gwaine saw his trouble and ran that direction, but as he approached, Lionel waited for his attacker to get close, dropped his sword and turned his body to the side just far enough to avoid the coming stab. Striking the stone threw off the attacker's aim, and Lionel struck with impressive speed, punching the man so hard in the face he dropped like a stone. Gwaine handed the boy his sword back. "Nice move, Kitchen Boy. Where did you learn to fight like that?" He parried an attack as he spoke, and Lionel ducked to stab a second attacker.

"I have six older brothers."

"That would do it."

Arthur and his contingent of three had fought their way to the center of the Saxons, and they were now surrounded. They didn't slow, but Merlin could see they would eventually be swarmed and overwhelmed. The druids had been reduced to more fleeing than helping, daggers no match for swords. Things were about to go very badly. With a deep breath, Merlin climbed to his feet, held his left arm out, and invoked the magic to kill all of the fires and plunge the clearing into true darkness. "Camelot, COVER!" screamed Merlin. That was the signal for everyone to use all of the flash and explosion powders they still had. It was supposed to be yelled by Arthur as a last resort, and was also the signal to cover your eyes so you would not be blinded. Steeling himself against the pain and hoping everyone on his side had indeed covered their eye, Merlin called out, "Claidheamh gréine."

Light crackled on Merlin's outstretched hand, bright enough that his eyes burned. He pursed his lips and blew lightly, and the light jumped from his hand to Arthur's sword, lighting the weapon up until it was impossible to look at directly. Shouts erupted, but the magic wasn't done.

The glowing stream split and smaller wires of light connected to Percival's sword, Gwaine's, and so on, to everyone fighting the Saxons.

As the light faded except for a pale glow around each enhanced weapon, Arthur brought his sword down in a mighty two-handed stroke. It cut through his opponent's sword like nothing and cleaved the man's chest, killing him instantly.

Seeing this, Leon gave a war cry and swung his own sword overhead, leaving a glowing circular after image above the head of the frightened Saxons.

Merlin wasn't done, though. He knew that the temporary edge they'd gained wouldn't overcome so many enemies. Ignoring the stabbing pain in his head and the blood that began to drip from his nose, he lifted his left hand high above his head, and cried, "Spreadhadh gréine."

He kept pulling power, though blood now poured from his nose, and began to leak from his ears and even eyes, and his control of the spell began to waver. He knew he wouldn't have it in his to help again, so this had to be the master stroke. He could hear nothing but the roaring in his own ear, but still he pulled power.

Darkness began to encroach on his vision, and just when he thought he'd lose the spell, a tendril of magic began to feed into him. He recognized that Iseldir and the two elderly druids were somehow feeding their own magic into him. He sucked up the magic like a man dying of thirst. It wasn't enough. Then, he felt a whisper of an ancient power, a dragon power, and realized that Kilgarrah had figured out a way to help him from beyond the veil. It was just enough to keep him conscious to finish the spell.

As he struggled, Merlin had no idea of how he looked to those below. Atop the stone dragon, feet wide and upraised hand full of light like the sun, he stood illuminated against the darkness like an avenging angel. Suffuse with power, and with more than a little dragon in his voice, Merlin cried, "I AM EMRYS AND YOU WILL NOT HARM MY KING."

He brought his hand down in a throwing motion and the light exploded against the ground in front of Arthur. Enemies all around him flew through the air like paper dolls, but Arthur and his allies were untouched. Their hair and capes blew, but the were otherwise unbuffeted.

The fight lasted less than five more minutes after that, but Merlin didn't see any of it. As he released the magic, his body crumpled in slow motion. He tumbled sideways and would have crashed to the ground, but Galahad dove in the way and took the brunt of the fall.

As for the Saxons, those that didn't fall fled in terror and didn't stop until they had left Camelot far behind. Their tales of Arthur Pendragon, the undying king with a magical sword, fighting with Emrys, dragon-riding sorcerer at his side terrified potential enemies for many years, and was spoken about for generations. The small valley was spoken about with fear and reverence, and many people refused to go anywhere near it, while others traveled long distances just to see it.

What's more, every weapon for Camelot that was in use in that battle, from Arthur's sword to Lionel's short gladius, to Leon's crossbow, to Gaius' athame, retained a pale glow, struck with extra power, and never rusted or dulled with age or use. Though not dragon forged, these legendary weapons changed the course of more than one battle.

But the fight was not without cost. Elwyn, Arthur's quietest knight, was dead, having taken a blade intended for the king. Two druids were dead, too, neither having even reached their 25th year. Iseldir and two more were barely conscious, having depleted their magic, and nobody was entirely unscathed except for Gwaine who somehow didn't have a scratch.

Galahad had a broken arm and nose as a result of arresting Merlin's fall, but hearing Gaius say that he had likely saved Merlin's life, as a blow to the head could have been fatal. His actions had erased any lingering doubts about his loyalties.

As for Merlin, he lay deathly pale and still.

Sunrise brought a patrol from the city, investigating the lights that had been seen all the way from Camelot's ramparts. They ushered the grateful, weary, injured, and heartsick home. Enid came along, proving to have a quick mind and an extremely sharp tongue, both of which Gaius appreciated though he made a point to complain about the latter. The rest of the druids stayed and began to build a village in the newly named Valley of the Dragon.

Rumors later said that when Arthur finally rode up, the queen lifted her skirts, raced down the citadel steps, and gave him such a passionate kiss that even Gwaine was uncomfortable. But if a few disapproved, everyone else just smiled.

Great changes came to the kingdom over the next weeks. After Elwyn and all who fell in battle against Morgana were honored, magic was officially made legal, and the druids were declared friends of Camelot. People began to adjust to the influx of magical creatures all around Camelot and the rest of the five kingdoms. The council met for hours every day to figure everything out, but the busy monarchs still took the time to check on a stricken friend at least once a day.

Gaius sent for Hunith. The king and his knights healed from their injuries. Galahad took to sleeping in Gaius' chambers. And still, Merlin didn't wake.


	21. The Web of Our Life

_AN: This is a long freaking chapter, full of unapologetic fluff. It's sweet enough you'll want to brush your teeth after reading it, but I'm not sorry. I'm just sad that there will only be one chapter after this. *sniff, sniff* _

_Please enjoy!_

CHAPTER 21: _The Web of Our Life_

_One month later_

"So, Geoffrey and Gaius are doing all the research they can, but we really need some more expertise to better understand the visions. We're having trouble convincing those who have magic that we truly can be trusted not to execute them. I don't really blame them. Hopefully, Iseldir can help us locate some help." Arthur scrubbed his hands through his hair. He was in his off mode,wearing a pair of leather pants and a simple linen shirt open at the neck. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees. "I should just sic Enid on them." He chuckled a little bit. "Did I tell you that your friend Gilly came to Camelot and is working with Gaius too?" Arthur spoke as if Merlin would answer, as if he were making snarky comments instead of wasting away on the bed, a little thinner and paler every day. Arthur had gotten into the habit of stopping in late in the evening and just talking to his friend.

Though a month had passed since the battle in the Valley of the Dragon, Merlin had yet to open his eyes. As time went on, Gaius was seeming to somehow...diminish. But mentoring the bickering new apprentices seemed to bring him some joy. Enid seemed to take her greatest joy in haranguing Gilly. She lived in quarters next to Gaius' with Hunith, because she couldn't stay with the men. Gilly lived with Gaius in Merlin's old room, and a second room had been added for Merlin's sick room. Gwen visited almost as often as Arthur, and the knights were often there too, especially Gwaine. Galahad remained faithful in watching over the sorcerer, and their hope kept Arthur's own going, though he knew that each day that passed made it less likely that Merlin would ever wake up.

Pushing the thought aside, Arthur rose and built up the fire. He visited so often that he knew what needed to be done to keep Merlin the most comfortable. "I made poor Lionel Gwaine's squire. Kilgarrah told Gwaine that your big magic emission at the Lake of Avalon somehow brought many more dragon eggs to the surface." Arthur grinned. "He gave Gwaine the task of finding them all. Lionel makes sure he never goes alone." Arthur sprawled back in the chair and yawned. He should head to bed soon. "Galahad is doing well too. We're forcing him to do some knight training even though I said only you could release him to do that. I know you're soft. You would have forgiven him by now." That sounded too much like Merlin was...gone...so Arthur changed the subject. "There's one thing that's annoying, though. Every time he walks through the courtyard all the maids seem to stop what they're doing to watch him walk by." The boy had broad shoulders and blonde curls and an endearing innocence. "Even Gwen told me he's pretty to look at."

"Jealous?"

"What? Kings don't get jealous. Besides – " Arthur jumped to his feet. Merlin had answered him, he was sure of it. "Merlin? Did you just say something?"

"You heard me," muttered Merlin, still not opening his eyes.

After that, Arthur forgot all about how late it was. He woke up Gaius, and Gwen, and pretty soon all of Merlin's closest friends were crowded into the sickroom. They didn't leave until well after Merlin fell back to sleep, and even Gaius didn't try to make them go.

Merlin was too weak to even sit up on his own. For a while, he only woke to eat a little soup, drink some water, and take care of the most basic of necessities before falling back to sleep, but that didn't stop his friends' joy. More than once, Arthur had been tempted to wake him up again, just to make sure that he would wake up.

_Eight weeks later_

Gwen was propped up in bed. She still hadn't shaken the habit of waking before dawn, so she'd established a morning routine. She would sneak out of bed, wash up, put her hair up, and, since her pregnancy, nibble on something her maid had left in the room. Then she would climb back into the warm bed and read reports or a list of what she had to do that day until Arthur woke up. Then they would eat breakfast together in their room. Right now, she was looking over the proposed menu for an upcoming formal dinner. Arthur hadn't really stirred yet, but he'd rolled over when she came back to bed and laid a protective hand on her curving belly. Gwen smiled down at her husband, looking young and carefree in his sleep.

There was a light tap on the door, and Gwen frowned a little. Typically, no one disturbed them until they rang. Further surprising her, the door opened and a head popped around the door. There was only one person who would dare – her mouth fell into a little 'o'. Merlin's face lit into a grin. He held a finger to his lips and she smiled and nodded. Merlin was still far too thin, not that he'd ever carried any weight, but he was finally starting to lose the skeletal look he'd worn. He didn't move as well as he had, but still, he was up and around. Gwen knew his vision had been affected, and that that would take some adjustment. Yet he was here, and that made her smile.

Merlin ambled over to the large windows and pulled back the curtains all at once so light flooded in. "Going for a lie-in, Arthur?" he called with cheerful insolence. "That's not very kingly of you!"

With the reflexes that had helped him become the youngest ever to be named First Knight, Arthur rolled to his feet and squinted into the light. "Merlin?" he asked a bit sleepily.

"No, actually it's Bayard. Got tired of all that ruling and decided to become your servant." Mischief danced in Merlin's eyes, but he made a startled "eep" when Arthur grabbed him in a hug – which turned into a headlock. Arthur let go after a second and grabbed Merlin by the shoulders, looking him over. "What are you doing here?"

"Relax. Gaius gave me the okay. I've been up and around more every day, helping gathering pots and going to the market. I'm not here to work, just visit."

Arthur laughed and took a step back. "You, not working? How is that dif-"

The door crashed open and Percival literally slid into the room. "Arthur, Merlin is miss – " The large knight saw his friend, standing unharmed. "Oh. Hi, Merlin. Um...I'm sorry."

Arthur shrugged into the shirt Merlin held out. "Percival, you may want to reconsider barging into the chambers of your king, _and queen,"_ Arthur began, but the door crashed into the wall again. Gwaine burst in, his shadow Lionel behind him, of course. Lionel didn't have shoes on, and only one sock. He looked like he'd put on his shirt on the run, which mean he matched Gwaine's unkempt appearance perfectly.

"Arthur, Merlin is --"

"Missing?" Arthur gave the knight a scathing look.

"Merlin!" called Gwaine happily, immune to the glare.

Gwen climbed out of bed and closed the door, always aware of how many servants and guards roamed the halls, and she was in her night dress and housecoat, after all. "Arthur, they – "

The door flew open yet once more, causing Gwen to yelp and Arthur to grab her out of the way of the door. "Arthur, Merlin is – "

"Leon," growled Arthur. "Merlin is _fine_. But you almost smashed your _pregnant_ _queen_."

"Don't kill Leon," argued Gwaine. "He got Gwen into your arms!"

"I don't need help with that," snapped the king. He took a long breath. "There are four extra people in our bed chamber!" He would have continued, but a polite knock sounded on the door, which had banged shut again.

"Um, your majesties?" came Galahad's polite voice. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but Merlin is, um, missing."

Merlin's laugh suddenly filled the room. He laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall. Gwen's sweet laugh joined his as Arthur set her back on her feet. Arthur's face softened, but only for a second. "Merlin is here, he is fine, Gaius gave him the okay. Now everyone _out._" He opened the door himself, startling Gwen's maid who was standing outside with her hand upraised to knock. "Breakfast for three, please, Tani. Everyone except Merlin is leaving right now."

The knights shuffled out, Gwaine ruffling Merlin's hair and throwing a cheeky grin toward Gwen. Lionel stared at the floor, blushing furiously, and Leon and Percival mumbled apologizes as they followed the others. Merlin tried valiantly to keep a straight face, but started laughing again as the door closed.

"Sit down before you fall down, Merlin," said Gwen kindly. "We are very glad to see you, but you are still recovering." Merlin tilted his head to the right, an affectation he'd started to compensate for the poor vision in his left eye. Gaius, confused, had admitted that the eye was clouded with cataracts as if Merlin were extremely elderly. He had no cure.

"I can go get your breakfast," he offered.

"Sorry, Merlin. I don't think you'll be able to be my servant any more," disagreed Arthur, sitting at the table. Merlin's face dropped. "You'll probably be too busy with your duties as the Court Sorcerer and member of the council. At least, if you accept the position. The druids feel that having you on the council will make more people with magical gifts willing to come forward, and help us develop some strategies for protecting outlying villages from some of the new creatures that have been appearing." He lounged back in the chair, throwing a leg over one arm of the chair.

Merlin fell into another chair, mouth falling open.

"Arthur, you weren't supposed to ask him like that," chided Gwen. Arthur sat up normally, snagged her waist and pulled her onto his lap.

"You may be right. I think I broke him."

Merlin's mouth moved without sound. Then, almost petulantly, he asked, "Are you serious, Arthur? I knew you lifted the ban on magic, and sent resources to help the druids build their town, but...but..."

"I didn't hear a yes."

Gwen gently slapped Arthur's arm, though she made no move to get up. "Give him a moment, Arthur." She turned her smile to Merlin. "Let's eat breakfast together and you can think about – "

"Yes," Merlin interrupted. "Yes, to all of it. I've only ever wanted to use magic for you, and for Camelot. To show everyone it can be used for good."

"I know. You've more than proved it," commented Arthur. He nodded at Tani, who came in and began to lay out food. She was not fazed by Gwen's position on Arthur's laugh, which Merlin thought was telling. "Now, there are some big, ugly creatures that Gaius believes are something called ispolini stealing livestock near some villages in the south, and we need to find a better way to keep people away from the Lake of Avalon..."

_Six months later_

"Go faster!" grumbled Gwaine, leaning over his horse's neck. "We are dead if we miss the prince's official introduction!"

"Arthur will forgive you," responded Lionel confidently, knowing that everyone knew Gwaine too well to think the delay was Lionel's fault.

"It's not Arthur I'm worried about," admitted Gwaine wiping a drop off blood off of his cheek. "Gwen is all sweetness and light until that maternal instinct kicks in." In all honesty, he could have outpaced his squire, but it was kind of his fault the man had a dislocated shoulder slowing him down. Gwaine himself sported a blackened eye

"She did tell you not to go on this trip until after the dedication," Lionel reminded him.

"Nobody likes hearing I told you so, Lionel." Gwaine double checked the precious package in his saddle bag. They'd have to bring the dragon egg to the hidden sanctuary under the village at the Valley of the Dragon later. It was true they should have waited, but Gwaine hadn't expected the trip to go quite so wrong. He wiped the blood from his hand onto his already stained pants. They'd have to go straight to the ceremony as they were. He mentally shrugged. At least he'd be there. The last time he'd made Gwen upset (which had been surprisingly easy to do during the pregnancy), Arthur had threatened to take his head off, and he'd seemed awfully serious about it.

They rode up to the very steps of the Citadel. The guards were well used to Gwaine's antics and were not surprised when the two jumped from their horses and threw the reins. Gwaine took half a second to grab the saddle bag and hook it over his shoulder before they ran directly inside to the main throne room, where all formal court business took place. The only difference from normal was that the round table stood in the center of the crowd, the symbol off the new Camelot that Arthur and Gwen were building. The rest of the knights were all in place, dressed in their full armor and capes. Gwaine slid into his normal spot, Lionel behind him with the rest of the squires. Leon's face was set in disapproving lines, but to Gwaine's relief, the royal family wasn't yet on the dais. Merlin was there, and though he had his court sorcerer mien firmly in place, a grin ticked at the corners of his mouth. His outfit for court business was mostly just a better fitting, cleaner, and higher quality version of what he'd worn as a servant, but today he had on full ceremonial robes. He carried, as usual, the stick Percival had made for him, but it too was improved. It was polished and stained, and boasted a solid gold handle shaped like a dragon's head, a gift from the king and queen when he'd accepted the role of sorcerer of the court. The top few inches were also carved with arcane symbols. The stick helped both direct Merlin's powers and add to his general mystique, but only very close friends knew he also carried it to hide the intermittent tremors that shook his left hand and help steady him during moments of weakness. (Though the latter were becoming rarer as time passed.) But the cheesy grin he was barely hiding at the sight of Gwaine's rapid entrance and filthy appearance? That was vintage Merlin.

Gwaine took a second to smooth his hair, which he could feel was floating wildly around his head. He quickly dropped his hand to stand at attention when Gwen and Arthur walked onto stage, the former holding a bundle wrapped in white cloth. They were resplendent in their Pendragon reds and larger crowns, and their transparent happiness seemed to bring the gathering a collective sigh. Gwen's eyes skipped across the crowd. They paused on Gwaine, and she raised one eyebrow just slightly as she took in his appearance, but her mouth softened and he knew he wasn't in too much trouble.

Arthur welcomed everyone, his eyes not on the crowd, but on his wife and son. He tried and failed to keep a serious, kingly expression on his face as he took their son from Gwen. "It is with utmost pride and joy that Queen Guinevere and I officially present our son." He had to pause a moment, and more than one woman in the crowd wiped away a tear as the king looked down at his heir, who broke the moment by sticking a tiny fist in the air and hiccoughing. "Our son," continued Arthur, "Prince Thomas Constantine Pendragon of Camelot." He held the baby up and they cheered and clapped, Percival starting a chant of "long live the prince." They kept on cheering until little Thomas signaled his disapproval of the noise by crying. When they had quieted, Arthur gently calmed the boy, then handed him to Lord Geoffrey, who declared that the prince was recorded in the annals of Camelot. He passed the baby on to Gaius, who declared the child was without defect. The most serious part of the day done, servants began to bring in tables and food to celebrate the occasion, and several gathered around the round table to carry it to the side to make more room. As they did so, each councilor was to hold the child for a few seconds to indicated their acceptance of Camelot's future heir. Nobody really paid attention to this part normally, but when Gaius placed Thomas into Merlin's arms, the latter dropped his stick with a clatter that stopped all other noise. His eyes glowed burnished gold and a gasp rang out, as most in attendance had never seen him actually perform magic.

He spoke in what Arthur now thought of as his "vision voice," a voice that was ageless and ancient and heavy with wisdom. "The child shall be called the merciful. His birth unites the seven and it his destiny to council his father for many long years. The seven are united. COURAGE." Golden light leaped from Merlin to the round table, causing the men standing around it to jump back in fear. "STRENGTH." The light jumped again. "MAGIC. COMPASSION. MIGHT. LOYALTY. And MERCY." With each word, more light leaped to the table, and the smell of burnt wood filled the air. "Though two were lost, one day, there may be ten. A new dragon age. And Albion shall last for millennia." Merlin took a deep breath, and his eyes turned back to blue. He staggered slightly, and quickly handed the baby to Gwen. Arthur himself steadied Merlin and handed him back his stick.

The silent shock was broken, when Gwaine said, "The merciful, eh? Good job they didn't name him Percival, because Percival the Merciful would be a bit much." Sound started again; Percival punched Gwaine's arm and Gaius called to the court scribe to make sure he had recorded every word of the prophesy. Everyone else talked excitedly about what they'd seen, then one of the men who'd been about to move the round table called out above the cacaphony, "look at the table!"

The royal family worked their way to the table to see that words had been carved on it as if by fire, in beautiful calligraphy. Before Arthur's seat, it now said courage, to his right it said compassion for Gwen, and to his left, magic at Merlin's place. Gwaine's said strength, Percival's might, Leon's loyalty, and in front of an empty place, directly across from the king, it said mercy." Arthur stared in awe, but Merlin wasn't finished.

"Wait," he called from where he still stood on the dais. "There is one more thing." He pointed at the long wall which held the standards of the previous kings of Camelot, and the banners slid up higher on the wall, making space. In the center a new tapestry appeared out of thin air and unrolled itself. Words scrolled across the top as if written by an invisible hand, in a script matching the words on the table. It said simply, "The Fallen." Pictures began to form, rich with color and life. First, there was Lancelot. He was laughing at something in front of him, weight coming forward as if he would step off the canvas. His hands were slightly out to his sides, sword not drawn, as if embracing the next life. Beneath him appeared his name, and under that, the word Honor. Then Elyan swirled into view. His hood was up, but the planes of his face and the light in his eyes were easily visible. His sword was drawn, his left hand behind him in a manner that made it clear that he was shielding or protecting someone. His face was calm, with even a hint of a smile and he took his fate as his due. Beneath him appeared his name and the word Redemption.

"Thank you, Merlin." Gwen's quiet voice somehow cut through the noise. Tears streamed down her face as Arthur put an arm around her, but she was smiling.

"Now you lot be careful, because it's a lot of work to add more," said the sorcerer, causing Gwen and Arthur to laugh, as he'd hoped.

After that, the mood was giddy, the food excellent, and the wine plentiful. The legend of Camelot was growing. Gwen fell asleep with Thomas in her arms, and Arthur stole the baby and kissed him on the nose, causing much sighing among the ladies of the court. Gwaine fell asleep cuddling the dragon egg, and a servant boy within hearing learned several new curse words when Lionel woke him up to make him go to his chambers. And even Galahad got a little drunk.


	22. All's Well that Ends Well

_AN: Well, this is it, my lovely readers. The final chapter. It took my a while to write it, and I finally realized why...I knew what I wanted to write (I've known it since I started the story), but I just didn't want to be done. Writing is one of my greatest pleasures, and I'm absolutely thrilled that some of you have come with me on this trip.__Sandhopper, thanks for your comments! Chapter 19 is one of my favorites, and I cried while writing chapters 20 and 21 too...and this one!__I have one favor to ask: I would love writing prompts. I don't get my email alerts from the fanfiction website for whatever reason, but if you write a comment with an idea, I'll try to honor it. I just don't feel like I'm done writing Merlin stuff.__Muah! Love y'all!_

CHAPTER 22: _All's Well that Ends Well__Five years later_

Merlin stood on the upper bailey of the Citadel, looking over the city as it woke up. It was early enough that hardly anyone was in sight. His eyes weren't on the city, however, they were on the mountains in the distance. His staff leaned on the wall next him. He'd been putting a lot of work into it, and arcane symbols were now carved nearly halfway down its length. Leaning hard against his right hip was, oddly, a hell hound. Gwaine had showed up with it after one mission, saying only that it was a long story. The hound promptly transferred its affectation and undying loyalty to Merlin and the royal family, to Gwaine's annoyance. It was extremely protective, and had intimidated more than one important visitor. Over time, they had learned that hell hounds were drawn to the dragon lords and, though they were typically dangerous, would not harm Merlin or Gwaine. And, with effort, they could be taught not to set the curtains on fire every day. The hound pushed so hard Merlin had to brace himself against the wall. "Not so hard, Yanni," said Merlin, absently scratching its ears. Gwen had named it in honor of her brother Elyan once they discovered that he would steal food at every opportunity.

The thought brought a brief smile to Merlin's face, but he was still very distracted. He had a feeling, maybe a side effect of his visions, that Gwaine would be returning to Camelot that day, and Merlin had some news for him. He'd been on another of his trips to fetch a dragon egg and return it safely to the sanctuary at the Valley of the Dragon. It was a closely-guarded secret, but below the druid town was a place where the dragon eggs were cared for and protected. The white dragon, Aithusa, stayed with them, and watching over the eggs, curling around them every night. It seemed to bring him peace. He still did not speak, but he no longer cried in the night.

Merlin had wanted to go on this latest trip with Gwaine, but his duties had prevented it. Thoughts of the Fisher King and memories or dreams of the time before he'd changed time had haunted him lately, and he thought a trip might be help erase them, but it was not to be. He wouldn't miss the next trip, though. Gwaine was going to name a dragon, and at its hatching, would meet a woman who would change his life. _Good luck to her,_ thought Merlin.

Thinking about the happiness that his Sight showed him in Gwaine's future was a nice diversion. In his dreams, Merlin mostly saw the future so long away, places he'd never heard of, so far away it hurt his mind to think of. He could get lost in all of the visions. He saw herds of centaurs roaming Siberia, a massive canyon in Arizona teeming with kobolds and hobgoblins, Nepal a hotbed of Sidhe, especially banshees, the largest river on earth home to giant, toothy fish called pirarucu, and cities larger than imagining with tall, tall buildings called skyscrapers with dragon aeries on top. And across the globe, countries and kingdoms would create groups of protectors based on Arthur's knights: bagatyres, Amazons, paladins, domovois, and more. Sometimes Merlin saw so many things his head throbbed. Yanni, always seeming to know when the visions were becoming too much, leaned even harder against his leg.

"Mer!" A high-pitched squeal broke the quiet, bringing a smile unbidden to Merlin's lips. Knowing he had only a second, he turned from wall and knelt, opening his arms wide. Two tiny figures bowled into him, and he wrapped them in his arms.

"Leila, get a message to the king and queen that the girls are here, and that I will watch them." The servant girl he'd seen nodded in relief. Gwen and Arthur's two year old twins had an excess of energy and were known to escape their watchers. Most likely, they had gotten into their parents' bed during the night, and then crept out quietly before the adults were awake. Anna, the more forward of the girls, switched her hug to Yanni, before begging to be lifted up to see out. Elaine stayed nestled in Merlin's arms, a soft, sweet weight, and he couldn't resist a little kiss on her head. Where Anna was wild and Thomas was clever, Elaine was quiet and loving, and probably his favorite.

Anna was dancing with impatience next to him, and Merlin said a short incantation, causing her to float up in the air high enough to see past over the low wall. Her giggles pealed out loud enough that several people nearby stopped what they were doing to look up and smile. It was a common enough sight that nobody was alarmed at the sight of a princess bobbing in the air. He turned with Elaine on his hip, knowing she was happier to stay in his arms.

"Is my daughter floating?" asked a mock-angry voice. Merlin twitched a finger, and the giggling girl floated to her father's arms. Gwen and little Thomas were with the king. They all knew why Merlin was up here. The king's fake scowl turned into a fond smile and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Stop being such a mother hen. Gwaine and Percival and Galahad will be back soon." The unusual trio had headed to the north when Gwaine got one of his overwhelming feelings that there was a dragon egg to be saved. Lionel couldn't go because of illness, so the other two volunteered to go along.

"I know...actually..." Merlin turned. He always knew when the seven were all in Camelot. "I think they're back." He and Arthur turned together to see the three riding in, definitely worse for the wear.

"That's still a little creepy," grinned Arthur. He changed the subject. "We need to improve the way we guard the Lake of Avalon." Although there was a patrol permanently stationed there, people still snuck through, and some of them reported seeing a beautiful woman in the water. Some saw a lady with green eyes who preyed on their fears and pain, and always turned them into enemies of Camelot. Others saw a lady with compassionate brown eyes who gave encouragement and hope. Merlin pictured Freya's face and wished he could see her face again, and Arthur noticed his friend's distraction. "You know what? Let's all have breakfast together. All of us."

"I'll meet them at Gaius' and let them and my mother know." Merlin handed Elaine over to her dad, who juggled the two wiggly toddlers with the ease of practice. Retrieving his staff and gesturing for Yanni to go with Arthur, he walked away, ruffling Thomas' head as he went. "Wanna come see Grandma Hunith, Tom?"

Gwaine, Galahad, and Percival beat Merlin to Gaius' and the physician was already cleaning a nasty-looking bite on Gwaine's arm. All three were scratched up and filthy and smelled like a bog. Merlin wrinkled his nose and began to fetch the supplies Gaius would need. Gilly and Enid, now married, were technically Gaius' assistants, but with Enid heavily pregnant, Gaius was hesitant to wake them.

"What did this?" Gaius was asking.

"Well, the egg was on a little tiny island in the middle of a swamp," explained Gwaine.

"A tussock, really," added Galahad, who was a stickler for precision.

Gwaine ignored him. "Percy and I went to swim for it – "

"You went in without any kind of plan, and I followed you when you were attacked," argued Percival.

"And it turns out there are these really ugly water horse things. Big teeth." Gwaine pulled his arm from Gaius' ministrations and mimed a big mouth full of teeth, making Thomas giggle. Gaius pulled his injured arm back down.

"Hold still." He resumed cleaning the wound. "Sounds like you encountered a kelpie. You were lucky to escape."

"Three of them. And it wasn't luck. It turns out they wanted to eat the egg but can't go on land, so they couldn't get it. They were so desperate to get it they agreed to let us live in exchange for getting it for them. Of course, they chewed on us a little first." He winced as Gaius spread a stinky paste on his arm.

"I know you didn't give them to egg," Merlin made it a question as he wiped off a cut on Percival's face. Gwaine protected the eggs above everything except the lives of his friends.

"Nah, Galahad here has a tongue as golden as his locks." Gwaine rubbed Galahad's head, aware that nothing irritated the young man more than having his head touched – unless it was referencing the poetry a would-be suitor had read loudly during knights' training. The even tempered knight scowled and ducked out of the way. He was the least scratched up.

"It's a good thing. You and Percival were half drowned when I convinced them to talk to me."

"And...?" Merlin loved hearing about Gwaine's quests almost as much as he enjoyed going on them.

"And, I convinced the, uh, kelpies that they had never tasted anything as delicious as an omelet, and they needed to allow the egg to get to shore so I could build a fire and make them one."

"And it turns out kelpies are terrified of fire," Percival grinned.

"Best of all, Galahad actually _lied_," Gwaine said it with relish.

"I did not!" Galahad sounded terribly offended. "I told them an omelet would be delicious, and that I couldn't make one without a fire. I never said that I would actually make one."

Merlin shook his head. He started to say something, but Thomas spoke up it his sweet, high-pitched voice. "What is an your bag, Gwaine?" The bag seemed to be wiggling.

"It's a much better present than the last one I brought." Gwaine was very proud. His last gift – daggers for the girls in honor of the second birthday – had not been well received. "It's for you and your sisters, and your parents will love it!"

All of the other adults in the room winced, but Thomas opened the bag and his eyes lit up as he pulled out... "_A kitten?!"_

"Wow, have you ever heard all of them talk at once like that, Tommy?" asked Gwaine.

Around an hour later, everyone was finally cleaned up and dressed and breakfast was served. Merlin was the last to arrive, and he stood in the doorway of the room where Uther had so often eaten alone. The long table was nearly full, and the room was filled with talk and laughter. Arthur sat at the head of the table. He was holding Gwen's hand and laughing at something she was saying. Anna was climbing Gwaine like a tree, which, honestly, was the knight's own fault, since he'd taught her to climb. Lionel was holding the tiny orange kitten Gwaine had brought back in his outstretched hands looking at it with utter confusion. Merlin guessed a child had handed it to him and he had no idea what to do with it.

Also seated was Hunith, who had Elaine on her lap. The girl was stealing from "grandma's" plate, but the woman looked indulgent rather than upset. Gaius was seated, too, and seemed to be moderating an argument between his assistants. Gilly and Enid argued no less than before they were married, and possibly more since Enid refused to slow down during her pregnancy. Though they were technically Gaius' assistants, the elder was doing less and less work. Percival was eating, and sneaking food to Yanni under the table.

"C'mon in, Mer," Thomas tugged at Merlin's hand. The boy showed empathy beyond his years, and never wanted anyone to be left out. Merlin took the sticky hand and let himself be drawn into the room. The seven were together again, and Albion was strong.

Arthur's head lifted and his eyes met Merlin's. "You good, then, Merlin?"

Merlin smiled. At least for now, the once future and the new future, the past, and what might be all disappeared and it was only the present. Merlin lifted his chin and walked into the room with Thomas in tow. "Yeah, Arthur. All good."


End file.
